And Kiss Like Native Things
by swerley
Summary: In unspoken acknowledgment of her problem-solving skills, Snape seeks Hermione's help and gets much more than he bargained for. Epilogue ignored.
1. Chapter 1

Many, many thanks to my very excellent beta, amylouise, who applied her skills to this piece to make it even better.

What power is it, which mounts my love so high;

That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?

The mightiest space in fortune nature brings

To join like likes, and kiss like native things.

_William Shakespeare, All's Well That Ends Well, act 1_

Chapter 1: Moving In

"I haven't changed my mind, Harry," Hermione called from the other side of the door. "You and Ron should take Ginny. You know I don't enjoy Quidditch that much," she finished as she yanked the door open, then stood gaping stupidly in the doorway.

"Miss Granger," Snape greeted somewhat cordially. "I apologize for calling unannounced." He waited uncertainly, regretting his impetuous decision to approach the girl. Perhaps this wasn't his best idea ever. He remembered how abominably he had treated her when she visited him at St. Mungo's after the war. He half-expected her to retaliate for that event, if not for the six years of mistreatment while he'd taught her. Well, no matter, he told himself**;** it wasn't the first time he'd groveled.

Hermione, for her part, felt considerably flustered as she realized she was standing in front of her former professor in her bathrobe. "No, no," she waved her hands dismissively when she finally found her voice again, "please come in." She stepped back to allow him entry, then led him to the settee in the sitting room in front of the hearth. "Please make yourself comfortable while I go put something on," she said, hastily escaping the room. He heard her footsteps ascending the staircase they'd passed in the entryway.

Snape glanced around at the eclectic collection of Muggle and wizarding paraphernalia displayed in Granger's sitting room. She had Arithmancy charts spread out on her coffee table, Runes and Charms books stacked on the floor near the armchair she obviously favored, Muggle and wizarding photographs were lined up on the mantle, and Muggle fountain pens and pencils strewn about the room. He was just perusing her book on ancient runes when she returned.

He took in her appearance, from her muggle jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt to the canvas slip-on shoes. She'd managed to mostly restrain her wild hair in a messy knot at the back of her head.

"Would you care for tea, sir?" She stood there awkwardly, clasping her hands nervously in front of her. "I've already got a pot on," she extended her arm, presumably toward the kitchen.

"Very well," he acknowledged, "if it's no trouble." Depending on how this conversation went, however, he may not be staying long enough to actually finish it.

As Hermione went to retrieve the tea service, Snape reseated himself on the settee, warily observing the monstrous ball of orange hair that sauntered into the room and sniffed at his trousers before jumping up onto his lap without invitation and making himself comfortable.

"Crookshanks!" she squealed as she entered the room, setting the tray down in front of Snape. "Get down from there, you pest," she scolded.

"He's all right, Miss Granger." He thought it best if he could stay agreeable as long as possible. He knew the charm to banish lint and hair from his clothes, so he wasn't overly concerned. He patted the ginger ball squirming on his lap absently. "You had him at school, did you not? I seem to recall seeing him during patrols."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir. I got him right before my second year. The clerk at the Magical Menagerie suspects he's part Kneazle. So does Hagrid, for that matter." She poured them each a cup of tea – he took it black, she noted with private amusement – then turned to sit in her favorite arm chair. "He's a great judge of character."

He glanced fleetingly at her face, deriving from her guileless expression she was entirely in earnest. "I suppose you are wondering why I'm here," Snape began, sipping his tea. He took some seconds to settle on his words as he stared into his tea cup. "Minerva mentioned you possibly had a room to let. As it happens, I find myself temporarily in need of lodging."

If there were any words she was expecting to hear, they certainly weren't those words. Professor Snape**,** living here – with her? For the second time in a quarter hour, she found herself unable to speak for several seconds. She cleared her throat, twice, when the silence became awkward.

"Forgive me, Professor, but don't you have a house?" She was very confused; she was sure Harry said Snape had a house somewhere.

With great effort, Snape managed to repress the sneer Hermione expected. Instead**,** he sighed. It was a sigh of resignation, as though he was being forced to tell Longbottom, _again_, not to slice his Valerian root at right angles, and Hermione recognized it as such from six years of hearing it. It was obvious he dreaded answering the question, fully aware it would bring up about a dozen more.

"I'm sorry, sir. It's none of my business. You just surprised me**,** is all," she apologized.

"No, you have the right to know if I am to stay here," he allowed, frowning. "It's my father's house, not mine." He clamped his mouth shut at that point, suppressing the rest of his explanation. It was completely against his nature to discuss his personal business with anyone. The last person he willingly divulged information to was Albus. Minerva managed from time to time to wheedle a little out of him, but it was rare. He would need to explain eventually, but he wasn't... _ready_… yet.

"Oh, right," Hermione answered, not understanding at all. She was even more confused, but wilfully beat down the desire to ask more personal questions. Forcing her mind back to the topic at hand, she stood up, setting her tea cup aside. "Well then, let me show you around."

Startled at Hermione's easy acceptance, Snape made to rise also, forgetting the Kneazle-beast on his lap – until the claws sinking into his thighs gently reminded him, and he sank back into his chair. Hermione recognized his predicament and reached into his lap to extricate the animal without so much as flinching at such close proximity to him. She tutted at the fur decorating his trousers, reaching down as though to wipe it away with her hands. Snape instantly grasped her wrists to stop her, earning a gasp and a blush as Hermione realized what she'd almost done.

"Sorry, habit," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Snape nodded curtly, whipped out his wand and vanished the hair with a quick, efficient flick.

"Lead the way, if you please," he reminded her. Hermione led him through her house, pointing out with a bit of pride the library/study, her makeshift lab in the basement, and the backyard garden (though frosted over now), laden with some rare magical plants she'd acquired over the years. If he was impressed, it didn't show. Neither did he show any sign of intimidation at the exercise equipment and gaming tables in the recreation room or the plethora of Muggle electronic gadgets all throughout the house.

"I don't imagine you'll spend a lot of time in here," Hermione said as she opened the door to the entertainment room, "but I'll show you how everything works if you wish. I've actually Charmed nearly everything to respond to Ron's wand. I could do the same for you if you'd like," she offered. .

"I assume this is your parents' house?" Snape questioned, although he already knew, from being in the Order, that it was. "Why aren't they here?"

Apparently**,** no one had filled him in on the strained relationship she now had with her parents. "It _was_ their house," she admitted. "They sold it to me for a large portion of my savings. They decided they preferred to stay in Australia. They've sold off their dental practice here and started a new one there." He noted her tense posture and concluded she had a story to tell as well.

In an obvious effort to change the subject, she steered the conversation to the rent and The Rules.

"I don't need much in the way of rent, let's say fifteen pounds a week, but the added expense of a second person will be your responsibility. I will subtract the additional costs from the utility bills for you and you will be expected to buy the groceries every other week. You will not bring Dark objects into my home. No quills, as Crookshanks has developed a bad habit of eating them and then vomiting all over the place. And no entertaining females." This last was said with a blush, but with such finality as to leave debate out of the question.

"Poppy and Minerva will be very disappointed," he said dryly.

Her eyes flashed angrily at him, and he had to wonder what behavior she had been subjected to in the past. "You know what I mean, sir. Don't pretend that you don't," she snapped, pinching her lips in annoyance. "My home will not be turned into a bordello."

Snape relented, saying, "I've never made a habit of bringing witches home before; I can't imagine I would start now."

"Good. Now, as to household chores**–** I can cook, unless you'd like to sometimes. I expect you to help with kitchen clean-up. We can divide up the dusting, vacuuming, bathroom scrubbing, and so on. I insist on doing the laundry myself. I've had too many bad experiences with other people ruining my clothes."

"Who?" he asked before he thought to stop himself.

Hermione clenched her teeth momentarily before answering. "My mother washed a load of darks once without checking the pockets. There was an ink pen in one of my dad's pockets. The entire load was ruined. My father shrank my wool jumpers more than once. Ron destroyed my underthings by adding too much bleach. Harry mixed the whites and colors and made everything come out dingy. Neither of the boys ever got the hang of getting the clothes out of the dryer before they wrinkled."

Hermione had wrapped her arms about herself, frowning petulantly, as though reliving an unpleasant memory. Perhaps she was. She noticed his calculating stare and deliberately forced herself to unbend.

"I know I sound obsessive, but it's just so exasperating! If people would just show a little concern, respect other people's things..." she huffed, shaking her head.

Professor Snape concurred with an inclination of his head. "I can't say I disagree with you. During the war, the Dark Lord forced Pettigrew on me for a time. I had to place jinxes on the bottles and pitchers in the refrigerator to prevent him from drinking directly from the containers without using a glass."

"Ron does that, too!" she exclaimed, then shuddered. "Disgusting habit. Well, this way then. I'll show you the upstairs."

He was surprised to see the bedrooms were appointed unpretentiously, and she gave him the choice between the guest room or the master bedroom with its ensuite bath. Deducing she felt uncomfortable using her parents' former bedroom, he chose the guest room.

At the weekend, Severus Snape moved in.

Minerva had sent four Hogwarts house-elves to help, and Snape took great pleasure in tormenting Hermione by pointing out that they were free elves who had volunteered, so no amount of grandstanding for their rights would make a bit of difference. As he was a former headmaster, they were honored to have been asked.

The most time-consuming part of the entire endeavor was sorting through his books, since there were hundreds of them. The ones devoted to Dark magic Hermione insisted on storing in the loft above the detached garage – her concession to the No Dark Objects rule she had made; technically, they weren't _in _the house. He was permitted to set up a reading area up there for the times he needed to consult them. She left the organizing of those books to him. They sorted through the remaining books, pulling the duplicates she already had in her library and added those to the loft library. Even after the culling, there remained over a hundred books to somehow fit onto the shelves in the study.

"Perhaps I should just move all of my books to the loft," Severus offered.

"No, no," Hermione rejected quickly. "I've got books in here I should have got rid of a long time ago." She reached out and pulled a battered copy of _Hogwarts: A History _off the shelf. "I have two copies of this. I'll donate one to the Ministry's Wee Wizards Day Care for the children." She set it on the desk and turned back to him. "I'm sure I can find plenty of room," she assured him.

Severus suspected she didn't want to lose the opportunity to read his collection but refrained from mentioning it.

Hermione ordered Chinese take-out for supper when the afternoon got away from them. "I'll just run down to pick it up, unless you'd like to come along?" She reached up to the key rack hanging at the back door and pulled off the set for the Volvo.

"You're going to drive?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course. This is a Muggle neighborhood. I can't just Apparate back and forth everywhere. The neighbors would notice if the car never left**,** and we were never seen outside."

"What I meant was – _can_ you drive?"

Hermione decided not to take offense. "Certainly. For the past two years, actually. Can you?" she challenged.

Snape looked a curious mixture of skeptical and affronted. Debating with himself for a moment, he answered truthfully. "It's been a number of years since I operated a vehicle. I can't say for certain that I could do it anymore without some...study."

Hermione grinned. "Come along, then. I'm sure it hasn't changed that much."

As they buckled into the Volvo, Hermione noticed Snape eyeing up her father's Lotus. "Your inner Muggle is showing, Professor. Like that one, do you?" she teased.

"It's much fancier than this one," he commented. "Why do you choose to drive this one?"

"I don't know how to operate a clutch," she admitted, suppressing a pout. "The Lotus was my father's. This one was my mum's. Mum taught me to drive in this one, so I never had the opportunity to learn to drive a manual shift transmission."

Snape smirked. "I learnt on a clutch." There was a gleam in his eye when he added, "If you'll give me a refresher course on driving, I'll teach you to drive it."

"Mmmm. We'll see." She smothered a giggle when he scowled at her. It was nice to have an extra bargaining chip. He was obviously very interested in getting his backside behind the wheel of the shiny blue convertible. She was reluctant to just give it up too easily. He _was _a Slytherin, after all.

She waved to several neighbors they passed, both going to and returning from the restaurant, proving her earlier declaration. As they exited the garage, Snape wandlessly unlocked the back door of the house and turned on the lights, earning an impressed gasp from Hermione. He resisted the urge to preen at her expression.

"You could teach me how to do that in exchange for a refresher in driving," Hermione suggested as Severus unpacked the food containers from the paper bag**,** and she retrieved plates and utensils from the kitchen cupboards.

"Perhaps," he conceded, "though I think wandless magical ability is a more valuable skill." He knew what she was doing. Bargaining, however, was a distinctly Slytherin trait, practically ingrained at birth. He wasn't the head of Slytherin for seventeen years if he could let her come out the better in this deal.

The desire to learn how to perform wandless magic was something he knew she wouldn't be able to resist, and he could practically feel the hand-tooled leather of the expensive sports car under his hands. He'd wait her out.

They ate silently, Hermione's aggravation eating away at her. Frustrated, she noisily placed her dirty dishes in the sink and turned back toward him, her arms crossed belligerently.

"Fine. What do you want besides the driving lessons?" she huffed. He could practically see her force herself not to tap her foot impatiently.

Biting back a triumphant smirk, he pretended to consider the question. "A driving licence," he said, then added, "and the right to drive the Lotus."

She had been considering selling the Lotus anyhow, since she couldn't drive it. His obvious interest in it only sweetened the deal. "You may drive the Lotus once you have managed to pass a Muggle driving test, unless you do something really horrible to piss me off."

Severus balked. "Have you met me? Of course I'm going to do or say something to piss you off. I'm actually surprised I haven't yet."

Hermione snorted. He was right. "Oh, very well," she relented. "The Lotus is yours to use exclusively as long as you live here. You're responsible for the petrol, repairs and insurance." She hoped she hadn't made a mistake by caving so easily.

"Gamp's law specifically addresses food as one of the things that cannot be conjured," he disputed a few days later, obviously exasperated with her. "You got an Outstanding in your NEWTs for Transfiguration as I recall. Has your memory failed you so soon after graduating, Miss Granger?" He reached into the drain board to retrieve the dish Hermione had just set in it and started drying it. Their discussion had continued long after they had finished their meal, veering from the dangers of Dreamless Sleep potion, the ineffectiveness of the Ministry, and now onto Gamp's Laws of Transfiguration.

"Of course not, Professor! I only question the validity of that particular law because we can produce water from our wands, so what prevents us from producing edibles as well? Just because Gamp says it can't be done doesn't mean we shouldn't try to disprove it," she said, blowing ineffectually at a wisp of hair that had fallen into her face. The curl lifted off her forehead momentarily before falling again across her eyes. She was elbows-deep in sudsy dishwater, so she did her best to ignore it. "In fact, if you think about it, in Transfiguration we learned to change a pin cushion into a hedgehog and back again. I realize it's transfiguring something, not conjuring it from thin air, but who's to say it can't be done? I've conjured canaries from thin air. Why not a chicken? Or a rabbit?"

He'd discovered more and more that their conversations usually became very serious discussions, or debates, and even an occasional argument. He frequently found himself unable to dispute her logic, and it was fascinating how quickly she grasped any new concepts he threw at her.

And the most remarkable thing was, no matter how much he sneered, criticized, or disparaged her points of view, she never took offense. It was rather like talking with Filius Flitwick, with the exception that she wasn't afraid to disagree with him. Other than Minerva, who would often grow annoyed with him and refused to continue their discussion, few people ever debated with him willingly. Oh, he could antagonize Hooch enough to argue, but the Flying instructor wasn't learned enough in intellectual topics to make it interesting. Albus had been a good opponent before...well, before. And of course Lucius Malfoy was a great conversationalist, but he was unavailable for tea, at least he had been, until the Ministry decided to release him from Azkaban a few weeks previously.

As the days passed, Hermione found Snape to be a remarkably conscientious housemate. There were no dirty clothes or empty food containers left around. The toilet seat was kept lowered as per her request. He rinsed out his dirty dishes. He even took the rubbish out to the bins without being told. If she had any complaints at all, it was that he was too complacent; not at all like the Snape she thought she knew, and after having shared a tent with Harry and Ron, and a dorm with Lavender and Parvati, she knew it was unusual for someone to go very long without a single problem or complaint. As they sat eating their lunch at the table one afternoon, she decided to address it.

"All right, out with it," she began without preamble. Snape looked momentarily startled before forcing an indifferent expression onto his face. Hermione sighed. "You cannot possibly have no objections or requests after all this time. I'd appreciate it if you'd just tell me what you'd like before becoming resentful at not having it."

Giving it some lengthy consideration, he pushed his empty plate away and leaned forward on his elbows. "Very well. When I moved in, you offered to show me how to operate the computer and to charm my wand to work the gadgets in the entertainment room. If you have the time," he said, sneering, "I'd appreciate having those things done." Now that was more like the Snape she recognized.

Hermione grinned. "Certainly. I'll be happy to do that right away," she said, getting up. "Follow me." She waved her wand to clear their dishes and set them to washing themselves for a change, as they pushed in their chairs and made their way downstairs. They spent the rest of the day sitting side by side at the computer as Hermione taught him the basics of operating the device and set him up with his own e-mail account.

Hours later**,** as she prepared for bed**,** she heard him start the shower. She tried desperately not to think of him naked and soapy, with little success. How could a few hours of close contact have affected her so much? She put her pillow over her head to block out the noise of the water running and finally fell into a restless sleep**,** only to be rudely awakened a very short time later.

Snape's angry bellow from the hallway outside her bedroom door penetrated her pillow covered ear, forcing her to wakefulness immediately.

"Granger! Get out here this instant," he yelled in a tone reminiscent of Potions classes at the height of his career.

Hermione jumped out of bed, yanking open her door to see Snape standing there, dripping on the carpet, wrapped in a towel. Her eyes were wide, ogling the nearly naked man in front of her. Pulling her eyes away from his torso, she forced her gaze to remain on his face.

"Imagine my surprise to find myself being accosted by your showerhead," he growled. "Explain yourself!" he demanded.

Her deep embarrassment couldn't have been more obvious if she were wearing a sign. "Er, I might have charmed it...t-to...um, sense, or...or respond...t-to my, um, tension?" she grimaced, her face so red Snape began to think she might pass out.

"I see," he relented. "Kindly warn me of other such modifications in the future, if you please." He wondered what else she might have in store for him. He turned around and disappeared back into the bathroom.

Hermione was bewildered; he hadn't asked her to remove the charm. Why hadn't he? Suddenly, she could no longer hear the shower running – he had put up a silencing charm. Was it possible he was just as aroused as she was? Did he misunderstand her, thinking that the shower was charmed to respond to whoever was using it? Or was he taking advantage of her excitement? Whatever the reason, she determined to adjust the charm for his use as well. And to add a built-in silencing charm while she was at it.

Once settled back in bed, she realized sleep was not in the offing. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was a thoroughly wet Severus Snape, eyes intense and glittering. He was right now, at this very moment, pleasuring himself right across the hall from her.

She groaned into her pillow. Her body completely turned against her, tingling with the imagined brush of warm, sensuous hands grazing against her breasts, her hips, the insides of her thighs. Her traitorous fingers stroked their way down her chest to her breasts, tweaking the already hard and aching peaks. She gasped at the sharp, exquisite sensation it brought. She rolled the tightly furled flesh between the fingers of one hand, arching her back and thrusting her hips, while her right hand dove beneath the waistband of her knickers, seeking the center of her pleasure.

Snape removed his towel after setting his silencing spell and climbed back into the shower. _Leave it to Hermione Granger, student extraordinaire, to come up with a self-pleasuring showerhead spell to satisfy normal human urges in such a perfunctory way_. He almost wished he could award her House points for her ingenuity as he grunted out his release a few moments later.

Shutting off the water and releasing the silencing spell, he could hear Hermione keening her own climax across the hall, which made him pause to reconsider her earlier words. Was it possibly only her arousal which elicited the charmed response of the shower? Surely not. But what if it was? And what would have caused her sexual excitement in the first place? Probably a book, he decided. The girl always had her nose in a book.

Hermione heard him exit the bathroom and walk down the hall to his room as she came down from her crest. She wondered if he had heard her cry out her climax, chastising herself for not applying a silencing spell to her own room. It never occurred to her that he would finish in the bathroom so fast. _Idiot girl,_ she thought. Now she had even more reason to be embarrassed.

Tomorrow's breakfast was going to be exceedingly awkward.


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N.: Sorry for the delay. I accidentally sent the chapters out of order to my beta, amylouise, and only realized it when she sent back the first revision. Luckily, she's the best and didn't take me to task for my mistake. She worked diligently to get this one (the correct one) back to me as quick as possible, and I am very grateful for her consideration. Did I mention, she's the best? Because she is!_

Chapter 2: Altered Impressions

It was a thoroughly mortified and subdued Hermione who eventually appeared in the kitchen the next morning. The pink tinge to her cheeks was endearing, but the way she avoided his eyes and mumbled her responses to his attempts at pleasant conversation irritated him.

"You're not still going on about last night, are you?" The way her shoulders tensed up confirmed his suspicions. "And here I thought you were a mature adult," he commented snidely. His words had the desired effect as Hermione sat up straight and looked him right in the eye.

"I'm very private about my sexuality," she admitted with a blush. "I had forgotten about the charm on the showerhead. I apologize for the unintended assault. I'll remove the charm if you prefer it," she offered.

He smirked. "That won't be necessary. It's a very ingenious and ... gratifying bit of spellwork." His smooth, quiet voice delivering the sexually charged innuendo caused noticeable reactions in Hermione, and Snape watched her fight the urge to squirm on her chair. Unable to resist tormenting her further, he added, "I am curious, however, why you would resort to such a charm. I am relatively certain there are Muggle devices designed to achieve the same result."

Hermione clenched her teeth. "Personal preference, if you must know. And now, discussions of my sex life are off the table, if you don't mind." She finished her tea and scone, placed the cup and saucer in the sink and hastily exited the kitchen.

Severus sat contemplating her answer for some time afterward. Other than the cost and probable embarrassment of acquiring said Muggle device, what could be her reason for choosing to use something as innocuous as the shower spray for sexual gratification? It finally came to him, and he was disappointed in himself for how long it took him to figure it out – penetration. She didn't want to risk penetration. Whether it was because of fear, past experience, or the utterly naïve idea of waiting for The One, he didn't know. Regardless of her wish to keep her sexuality to herself, he intended to find out, if for no other reason than he was bored, and it gave him something on which to focus.

Hermione Granger was turning out to be a very intriguing young woman.

The morning passed by with them performing various housework duties, as he had come to expect on a Saturday, Hermione choosing the Muggle methods over magic almost exclusively. Watching her struggle with the bulky vacuum cleaner was as entertaining as it was visually stimulating. She growled, exasperated, when she got the cord hooked on the leg of the coffee table and accidentally unplugged it.

"Why do you insist on torturing yourself with these contraptions when there are perfectly acceptable charms to do most of this work?" he asked as she stomped over to the receptacle to plug the vacuum back in. She didn't answer immediately, so he shrugged it off and returned his attention to directing the feather duster with his wand.

Hermione stood with her back to him after completing her cleaning of the carpet, pausing in winding up the cord. "I-I don't know why exactly," she finally admitted. "My mum taught me to do it this way. I suppose it feels as if I'm disrespecting her if I use magic to do it." She frowned, chewing on her lip. "I know it's my house now, but I haven't come to terms with losing them yet, you know?" She turned slightly to glance at him, tears glistening in her eyes, a rueful expression on her face. She left the room, tugging the vacuum behind her.

Snape decided to give her some privacy and sat down at the computer. The colorful icons on the screen beckoned to him and**,** giving in to curiosity, he clicked on the stack of coins. A bank ledger popped up on the screen, Hermione's name displayed at the top. His mind boggled at the amount of money she had in her bank accounts. Hermione was a very rich girl. No wonder she hadn't requested much rent; she had the means to support the entire Weasley family and many more. The balance in her savings account was considerably lower, but he recalled her saying her parents had accepted her savings as payment for the home and its furnishings. He found himself wondering how much it had amounted to before their agreement.

Uneasy with guilt for prying, he exited the program and tried to put it out of his mind. His thoughts kept returning to it, however, and mentally calculating the conversion from Muggle to wizarding money he realized that Hermione was at least as wealthy as Lucius Malfoy, certainly richer than James Potter or Sirius Black.

His own poor Muggle upbringing came to mind. They had struggled; there was no other word for it. He remembered seeing Lily in her pretty Muggle dresses and knew he had been jealous of the seeming wealth of her family. But that was nothing compared to this. This was bordering on obscene.

How had Hermione Granger gone through her entire career at Hogwarts with no one knowing about this? Furthermore, why did her parents work as dentists for a living, for Merlin's sake? They obviously didn't need the income for support. What would cause someone to hide their wealth in this manner?

He looked about the home, seeing the obviously expensive furnishings and electronic equipment as if for the first time. The Volvo and Lotus in the garage were almost brand new. The home itself was large, despite only having three bedrooms, with every possible amenity. Besides the entertainment room, the recreation room, the library and the lab, there was a formal dining room, a great room, a sunroom, a parlor, all luxuriously appointed, and three extra bathrooms throughout the lower levels. And these were just inside the house. Above the three car garage, the finished space of the loft contained two rooms plus a loo. There was an in-ground swimming pool with pool house, a tennis court, a bowling green, formal gardens, and a large stone patio with an abundance of cushioned seating for parties.

He recalled overhearing various conversations at the Head table between Minerva and Filius discussing the Grangers' trips to France, Egypt, Switzerland, and Italy. They may have worked as dentists for whatever reason, but they enjoyed spending their money, too.

No, her parents didn't hide their wealth. Only Hermione did that. But why?

It was nearing noon, and he made his way to the kitchen to fix some sandwiches for them both. After putting the tea kettle on, he climbed the stairs to Hermione's room and spotted Crookshanks sleeping outside her closed door. Debating whether to chance waking her from a nap, he cast a transparency spell at the door.

Hermione was curled up asleep on the coverlet, a Muggle photo album hanging precariously off the edge of the bed. He could see the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Feeling a pang of anguish at the pain her Muggle parents had caused her by their disregard of her sacrifices, he stood impotently outside her room, clenching his fists to stem his emotions.

Crookshanks opened one eye, peering at him suspiciously. Uncurling and stretching in that way only cats can, he suddenly yowled, forcing Severus to bring his wayward feelings under control.

Snape canceled his transparency spell and knocked on her door quietly. "Miss Granger?" No answer. "Hermione?" He heard the rustling of the bed covers. "I've fixed sandwiches and there's tea if you would care to join me," he called out. She mumbled something incoherent, and he turned back toward the stairs. She would either come down or not.

As he poured his tea, he heard the water rushing in the pipes. Hermione must be up and washing her face, he reasoned. He poured her a cup as well and summoned her plate from the counter, canceling the stasis spell he had put over it.

She was wearing a brave face when she entered the room. Seating herself and pulling her tea cup to her, she thanked him for not letting her sleep the afternoon away. "I want to get the laundry done this afternoon. Have you brought down everything you want washed? Your sheets and towels, too?"

"Not my sheets. I'll collect them after lunch," he said. "I didn't realize you were planning on washing today." He still felt ridiculous discussing his dirty laundry with her even after several weeks of it, and sought a change of subject. "Do you want to do the grocery shopping tomorrow?"

Cradling her tea cup, she nodded. "Unless you want to do it today?" she offered, glancing up at him. "We could Apparate from here to Diagon Alley if you don't want to use the local grocer."

"I'd like to incorporate a grocery run with a driving lesson," he sheepishly admitted. "Unless, of course, you're busy tomorrow." He raised one eyebrow.

"No, that will work," she agreed, "but we'll do it today, since tomorrow's Sunday. We'll run down to the Driver and Vehicle Registration Agency after we finish eating and get you a provisional licence so you're legal. Do you have any Muggle identification?" At his blank look, she elaborated. "A birth certificate, utility bills, Muggle bank account, deeds or ownership papers?"

He shook his head. "I have electric, water and sewer bills, but I pay them in cash. My bank account is at Gringotts. The deed to the house is in my father's name, as I've said. I haven't ever come across a birth certificate, if there was one. Everything I own is from the wizarding world where no ownership papers are necessary."

"Were you born at St. Mungo's?"

"No, a Muggle hospital," he answered.

"Well then, there's a birth certificate somewhere. We'll just have to get a copy," she stated matter-of-factly.

He was pleased to see her mood had uplifted significantly since she had appeared downstairs. Apparently, all Miss Granger needed was to refocus her mind on something else. He didn't seem to mind that she was focused on him. Odd, that.

They finished their lunch and straightened up the kitchen. Hermione decided that she would delay the laundry until their return from acquiring Snape's provisional licence and grocery shopping.

Severus Side-along Apparated them to an alley near the courthouse of his childhood home.

"Let me do the talking when we get inside," she recommended, pulling her coat tighter around her to block out the wind.

Not a problem – he had no idea how to go about getting a copy of a birth certificate anyway. He nodded, pulling the enormous steel door open for her. She stepped in and waited for him, then looped her hand through his arm at the elbow. He tensed for a moment, until he saw the receptionist sitting at the welcome desk watching them.

Hermione smiled brightly at her, subtly tugging Severus to walk with her to speak to the woman. "Good afternoon. We're getting married, and my fiancé lost his birth certificate in a fire. Can you direct us to the proper department, please?" Hermione smiled expectantly, gripping his arm in warning not to expose the lie.

The woman smiled in congratulations, not even batting an eyelash in recognition of the disparity in their ages. "Certainly, take the lift to the third floor. You want Room 302. Ask for Emily. She's my sister," she added in a confidential whisper.

They thanked her for her help and walked assuredly to the elevator. To his discomfort, Hermione did not release his arm once inside. She squeezed his elbow tightly to get his attention and glanced up at the security camera in the corner. He followed her gaze and relaxed his posture, holding his hands together in front of him.

After giving the same explanation to Emily, he was asked for his parents' names, his birth date, his place of birth and so forth, verifying his information matched what Emily found on her computer screen. They paid the fee and left with a temporary birth certificate until a copy of the original was made and mailed to him.

A brief stop at home so Severus could collect his most recent utility bills, and they left in the Volvo to visit the Driver and Vehicle Registration Agency.

Less than an hour later, Hermione was handing him the keys to the car. They buckled in, and Hermione watched as he adjusted the mirrors and seat for his height.

"Now don't hit the accelerator before you turn the key. It's fuel injected, so you'll flood it if you do," she babbled nervously. "And you have to put your foot on the brake to change from park to reverse or drive."

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger. You're a witch. If I make a mistake, I'm certain you can correct it with little more than a swish of your wand," he smirked, starting the car.

She giggled nervously, nodding her agreement. "I'm sorry. You're right, of course."

Other than scraping the curb with the tire pulling out of their parking spot, he had no other mishaps on the way to the grocery store. He remembered the Muggle axiom about never forgetting how to ride a bicycle and appreciated it for the first time. His father's car was nowhere near as nice as this one, but the basic operation felt instinctive. The strangest part was having nothing for his other foot to do.

He realized with a start that he was actually fulfilling one of his adolescent fantasies: driving around town in a nice car with a pretty girl beside him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, putting that thought right out of his head.

When they reached their destination, he maneuvered the car into a parking space, turned it off and held the keys out for Hermione to take. She shook her head, refusing them while smiling brightly. "That was wonderful, sir. You're very good at that."

He grinned back, unable to restrain the glee he was feeling. "I'm good at lots of things," he agreed ambiguously.

Hermione flushed, uncertain if he meant the innuendo, and hummed noncommittally.

They made quick work of their shopping, bickering good-naturedly over whole grain or white bread, dark or white meat chicken parts, and butter or margarine – until they got to the ice cream: double-chocolate fudge or butter pecan?

"We're getting chocolate this week and that's final!" she barked shrilly, hands clenched at her sides.

"Am I not allowed to give my argument?" he pressed, perplexed by her strange behavior. He couldn't remember ever seeing her actually angry before.

"Go ahead," she challenged, narrowing her eyes. He wouldn't win, no matter what.

"I acquiesced to your choices all throughout the store. Can you not let me have just this one thing?" He didn't actually have a problem with any of her choices; he just liked arguing with her.

She bit her lip, trying to decide if her privacy or her hormones were more important. "You can get butter pecan for the next three weeks," she offered, compromising, "but I. Really. Need. Chocolate this week."

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Can you really not guess?" He stared blankly at her. She flushed, rolling her eyes. "You're going to make me say it," she muttered under her breath, wondering if he was really as thick as Harry and Ron.

His eyes suddenly widened. "Of course, chocolate it is. This week." He privately hoped that explained her weepiness earlier in the day. He wasn't very good at offering comfort. Not to mention he was secretly glad it wasn't because of him that she needed the chocolate.

The drive home was quiet, for which he was thankful. It gave him some time to think over his reactions to Hermione throughout the past weeks.

She was clever, as evidenced by their trip to the courthouse.

She was patient, taking the time to teach him to operate the computer.

She was fair in that, generally speaking (except for the chocolate), she was quick to offer a compromise when they didn't agree, for instance his Dark Arts texts.

She was generous – the exclusive offer of the Lotus with no strings attached coming quickly to mind, as well as giving a hated former professor and ex-Death Eater a place to live. A very nice place to live, actually.

Her rules were not unreasonable; she was intelligent, kind, hard-working, helpful, and forgiving to the point of ridiculousness. He was frankly amazed that he hadn't seen it before. Other than her unfortunate hair and poor choice of friends, she was a perfect woman.

For someone else.

For someone not him.

Matching her up against Lily, he was forced to admit Lily would come out the loser – several times over. Lily was his first friend, and nothing could ever change that. Lily was beautiful, with her long, glossy, dark red hair and sparkling, emerald eyes. But Lily was vindictive when she didn't get her way. She spent more time being popular in later years than she did on her school work. Lily could be kind, when she wanted to be, but she was jealous of Severus' intelligence, and he more than once caught her peeking at his answers during tests. And she did not forgive. Ever. It was the one thing that most clearly marked the turning point in his life. He couldn't help but think what might have happened to him if she'd just forgiven him. Or if Hermione had been his friend instead.

Hermione pushed the button on the garage door remote control when they came into view of home. He pulled the car into the garage almost expertly, although he could see Hermione gripping her wand as a precaution.

As they unloaded the groceries from the boot, he noticed Hermione watching him carefully. He set the bags back down and ushered her toward the back door. Steering her in front of him, he stood with his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down to her ear and whispered, "Ground yourself, Miss Granger. Search out your strength, the center of your magic. Breathe deeply," he instructed, waving his hand before her chest in an upwards motion as though in demonstration. "Feel the power radiating up through you," he murmured, lightly caressing her shoulders as he spoke. "Firmly picture the lock in your mind... focus all your considerable strength on it, see it, feel it, hear it turning, the bolt sliding back into the door."

Hermione felt, as well as heard, the click of the lock as the bolt slid free of the jam. She squealed her delight, spinning around and hugging him tightly while bouncing on her toes. "I did it!" He nearly reciprocated, just managing to catch himself raising his arms.

He nodded, squelching the momentary joy his heart felt at the casual expression of happiness she displayed. "You did," he agreed. She released him and stepped back, embarrassed with herself for accosting him. He pretended it didn't hurt. "You'll need to practice controlling the strength. I suspect you may have unlocked nearly every door in the neighborhood."

She laughed. "Thank you, sir. That was amazing!" Her eyes sparkled in a way he couldn't recall seeing before and the pain lessened.

"Severus. Please." It came out without thinking. He felt like kicking himself. What was he doing, offering such familiarity?

"Of-of course... Severus," she smiled again. "And you must call me Hermione."

He inclined his head in agreement. What else could he do, after extending the offer? He couldn't rescind it now. There was an internal struggle going on between his brain and his heart that he didn't understand. It appeared his brain was losing.

He was a besotted old fool.

_Please leave a review!_


	3. Chapter 3 Confessions

_A.N.: My deepest gratitude to my awesome beta, amylouise, for getting this chapter back to me so quickly. She does such a terrific job correcting my mistakes, I don't know what I would do without her!_

Chapter 3: Confessions

For the second time since he had moved in, Hermione found herself aroused and frustrated. When he had leaned down to give instruction directly into her ear, the pleasure she took from such a simple act left her feeling like a wanton hussy. She was embarrassed to admit even to herself that she was still attracted to him. She had thought her schoolgirl crush had long since diminished. Obviously**,** she was wrong.

It was hopeless, she knew. Her developing affection had to be stopped. He'd be mortified if he learned of it.

And it didn't matter anyway.

She had a duty, a familial responsibility she just couldn't shirk.

She'd put aside her feelings, get on with her life, fulfill her obligations to the family. That's all that mattered. She'd already risked her parents – first**,** by being a witch**;** then by being friends with Harry while Voldemort terrorized Britain**;** and lastly, by moving them out of contact with the rest of the family to Australia for over a year.

She was thankful that being a witch hadn't mattered in the least up to now, but then her extended family didn't know she was a witch. Only her parents knew, and they weren't going to say anything. Besides, what could they say? No one would believe it. They'd be risking their own position to have their sanity called into question.

While chastising herself for her wayward feelings, she mindlessly sorted the laundry, emptying pockets, checking for loose buttons and torn seams.

Her hand closed around an envelope, pulling it out of Severus' frock coat pocket. She glanced at the front.

It was an eviction notice addressed to Tobias Snape.

She pulled out the letter, quickly scanning it for relevant information.

… by order of the housing council ... land reclamation act ... blighted community ... 96% vacancy ... compulsory purchase. ₤14,500.00.

Severus' father's house was being torn down. No wonder he needed a place to live.

She laid the envelope aside, completing her chore while running everything she knew through her mind.

The letter was dated two months ago. A final notice letter, which meant he had to know about this for several months before that.

And he had left it in his pocket. Deliberately. For her to find. _Wanker_.

He _knew _she'd find it. And it would drive her crazy worrying about it. How long had he been planning this? If she hadn't had a room to let, how would he have approached her? They didn't share any friends besides Minerva.

At any rate, she didn't know that there was anything to be done. It was a law. He really didn't have a legal leg to stand on from what she could see. A run-down house in a blighted, vacant neighborhood; he was lucky they were offering as much as they were.

Besides which, she didn't even know that he wanted anything done. She was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps he only wanted her to know how it had happened that he was homeless without having to go into detail.

She would wait and watch. If he wanted something from her, he'd have to be straightforward. She was a Gryffindor, dammit. Be blunt, not subtle. He**,** of all people**,** should know that.

She'd give it a couple of days. If he didn't give any other indication by Wednesday evening, she'd approach him about it. In the meantime, she'd put the letter back in his frock coat pocket and pretend she hadn't looked at it. As long as he didn't look into her eyes, she'd be relatively safe. Probably.

All right, fine. She'd ask him about it this evening. He'd never bring it up otherwise.

_Bloody Gryffindor do-gooder_, she mumbled to herself under her breath. Her inability to stay out of other people's problems was going to cost her one day.

She found Severus at the computer, checking the news, the weather forecast, and his mail. She seated herself on the couch to read her book, or try to anyway, stewing over what she knew.

"Hermione?" His voice did something to her, as usual, but caressing her name like that was a crime. It sounded like a claim the way he said it, emphasizing the second syllable, his deep, resonant voice dropping just that tiniest bit more. Her eyes closed on the shudder her body produced at the sound, the downy hairs on the back of her arms standing to attention. When she didn't answer, he turned toward her, forcing her to regain her focus.

"What's this program here?" he asked, pointing at the computer.

Hermione directed her gaze to the screen, squinting at the icon he indicated. "Family Heritage. My mum traced and documented our family back over two centuries on my father's side. She only got as far back as 1845 on her side. The program allows you to enter names, dates and other facts you uncover about your ancestors in an easy to read format."

"Why didn't she go back further on her side?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"There wasn't any more documentation to be found," she explained. "It's like they just suddenly appeared out of nowhere."

"Perhaps they did," he speculated. "Did you check the Ministry of Magic? Or the Hogwarts rolls?"

"You really think...?" she scoffed, then trailed off, considering it.

He shrugged. "It's worth a look. Magic as strong as yours doesn't just spontaneously erupt in a Muggle family. It lay dormant somewhere in your family's gene pool for some time before manifesting in you." He could see she was skeptical. "Mr. Finch-Fletchley from your form is a typical Muggle-born. His magical ability is exactly what we expect to see. What I felt coming off you today was as powerful as any magic Minerva has ever demonstrated. It rivals my own," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, black eyes glittering seductively.

Hermione swallowed hard and looked away from his intense gaze. If he was trying to lure her in, he was doing a bloody good job of it.

He turned back to the screen. "How would one go about finding their ancestors if they were so inclined?" he asked offhandedly.

If Hermione knew anything at all about Snape, it was that nothing he did or said was without a reason. She summoned a chair and sat beside him, opened the Family Heritage program and started a new tree. "Fill in all you know about your parents and grandparents: names, dates and places." She stood to retrieve some paper and a pen. "I'll be right back. I'm going to get us something to drink and see if Crooks is back yet."

When she returned with two glasses of apple juice and a Muggle notebook and pen, Severus had completed filling in the information he knew for certain.

"Now what?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, normally you would ask living older relatives what they knew, and add that. Do you have any living relatives?" she asked as delicately as she could.

To her surprise, he nodded tentatively. "My mother is in Azkaban. I don't know where my father is, but I believe he is still living," he said with an air that he didn't really care. She saw straight through it.

She took a deep breath. "Right, so first we find your father. What's the most recent thing you know about his whereabouts?"

She waited a long time for him to say something. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, halting.

"I had just joined the Dark Lord. I had returned to his house to retrieve the few belongings I had there. My mother had been incarcerated, again, for using magical remedies on Muggles. It was her third offense. They locked her in the minimum security ward, separated from the Dementors, although their influence still permeated the prison. She got twenty years for causing the unintentional death of a Muggle, my grandfather. My father's father. He suffered from spinner's cancer, a cancer that attacks the scrotum of textile mill spinners. He was dying. The pain-relieving potion she made for him was on the bedside table. It was empty when she checked on him in the morning.

"Since he was a Muggle who died in a household with a witch and wizard, myself, residing therein, the Ministry automatically investigated. Even though it was determined he took it himself, she was imprisoned for his death, the reasoning being that if the potion hadn't been there, he wouldn't have taken it. I blamed Muggles – my father – for being a Muggle, for losing me my mother. I was very angry and full of hate, resenting his Muggle heritage for making what_ I_ was – a wizard – seem like an evil, shameful thing**;** hiding my abilities, restraining my mother from doing practically anything by magic.

"I said some very ugly things to my father. It was a miracle I didn't kill him in my black rage. I warned him to stay away from me and my mother. He took me at my word. I never saw him after that day. After two decades of searching, I have never found a trace of him. I've come to regret the things I said. And now, his house is being torn down, and I can't find him to ensure he gets the money for it. My mother will be released from Azkaban within the month**,** and she has no idea my father has been missing all this time. Being a Muggle, he had no way of getting there to visit her without me, and I couldn't go, knowing she would ask about him. I would have had to tell her what I'd done.

"It took me years to recognize how much they loved each other. He understood her need to use her magic to make life better for them... for us. She respected his wish to limit how much magic she used. He didn't want her risking exposure. We were his life, and I destroyed it all with my evil, hateful behavior."

He didn't look at her once during his entire speech, instead staring blankly at the computer screen. She could feel his pain as though it was her own.

She swiped at the tears that had escaped, laying her hand on his shoulder to try to offer some comfort that he might not despise. "You didn't, Severus. You were young, impetuous, like any other teenager, without a clear understanding of Muggle-wizard relations. We'll find him, I promise. You know how tenacious I am. I won't give up until we find him." She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then impulsively kissed his cheek and hugged him sideways.

He patted her shoulder awkwardly in acknowledgment.

She released him then, saying, "By the way, I'm mad at you. How much time have you wasted trying to manipulate me into helping when all you had to do was ask?" She got up from the desk and stretched. "Let's get some dinner. Then we'll plan a strategy."

"I'm a Slytherin**;**I plot," he sneered, inexplicably feeling better after recounting his story.

She laughed. "Fine – you plot, I'll plan."

After a light supper of vegetable soup and crusty bread, they settled on the couch with her old laptop computer.

"I'll assume you did an internet search for him," Hermione deduced. He nodded. "And found nothing?"

"Correct."

"Well, that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Did he have any interests, like quoits, or bowling? A team he may have been a part of, or an organization?"

"He liked to bowl, but we rarely had the money for it, and he enjoyed watching Manchester United matches on the telly at the pub with his friends," he said.

"Did you locate any of his friends to see if they'd seen him?" she queried.

He gave her an exasperated look. "The letter – which I'm sure you read – adequately described what has happened to my neighborhood. There's no one around to ask anymore."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound condescending. I just want to see how far you've gotten to save us steps now," she apologized. "Have you tried an internet search for any of them? They're not hiding from you," she pointed out.

"No," he admitted, "I hadn't thought of that."

She placed the laptop on his lap. "Pick the ones with the most unusual names first. And don't forget wives – and children who would be adults now." She laid the Muggle notebook and pen beside him. "I'm going to make a call. I'll be back shortly."

Hermione went into the kitchen and pulled out her telephone directory, first checking if any Snapes were listed, which proved as fruitless as she'd suspected, and looked up the number of her solicitor's private residence. Being who she was, he would take her call even if it had been after midnight.

His wife picked up on the second ring. "Good evening, Mrs. Douglass. Hermione Granger calling for Mr. Douglass, please," she paused, "yes, I'll wait." She could hear the woman calling to her husband in the background. He picked up the extension.

"Hermione! It's good to hear from you," he greeted. "Now, what can I help you with?"

"Thank you for taking my call, Phillip. I hate to disturb you on your weekend like this, but I'm trying to help a friend locate his estranged father. It's very important and time is of the essence. Do you have a private investigator on retainer?"

"Of course. Shall I have him contact you tonight?"

"That would be most appreciated. And Phillip, please bill me for the services. I don't want my friend to pay for any of this," she added.

"As you wish, my dear. You should hear from him within the hour," he said, hanging up after exchanging pleasantries with her. She took the portable phone with her into the sitting room.

Severus looked up when she came in. "No luck so far," he stated.

Hermione sat beside him. "I've contacted my solicitor. He's going to put me in touch with his private investigator." She held up the portable telephone for him to see. "He'll call tonight."

Snape frowned. "That will be expensive."

"I've got it covered," she admitted, causing him to frown even more. "Oh, stop scowling! I want to help you, don't you see?" she pleaded, grasping his hand.

He turned his hand over and grasped hers tightly in response. "About that – you are going to explain to me about your financial situation. You've been keeping some very big secrets from me, Hermione."

She grimaced, but nodded, reluctantly agreeing. "I just don't like thinking about it," she muttered.

He wondered what she meant by that, but before he could ask**,** the shrill ring of the telephone interrupted them, and Hermione made arrangements for the investigator to come right over.

They had nearly fifteen minutes to wait, so Severus launched back into their interrupted discussion. "Why do you hate thinking about it?" he asked, picking up exactly where they had left off.

Hermione shook her head, delaying her answer. When he only continued to stare, she sighed, resigned to at least addressing it. "I have some decisions to make that my parents should have been here to help me with, but as we're not currently on speaking terms...," she trailed off, swallowing anything further.

Severus wasn't ready to let it go. "Decisions about what?" he pressed.

"Look, can we just focus on one thing at a time, please? I promise I'll tell you all about it after the investigator leaves. I don't want to get into a long explanation and have to stop in the middle, all right?" It was something she hadn't before discussed with anyone. She knew she sounded shrewish, but the topic wasn't one she felt comfortable going into with him.

Especially him. She didn't want him to treat her any differently than he ever had. It was also why she'd never told Harry and Ron. Would they suddenly feel uncomfortable or anxious around her? She didn't want to risk alienating them, any of them, but especially Severus.

He couldn't decipher her expression, both pleading and adamant. He relented with a stiff nod, and he noted that her anxiety abated. "Until later, then."

The short, bandy-legged man who arrived in front of Hermione's house in a nondescript sedan wasn't quite what they expected. He was sharp-eyed and quick-witted, reminding Hermione alarmingly of a Jack Russell terrier. After being given a quick run-down of the situation, leaving out all references to magic and Eileen's incarceration, he left again, promising to keep them informed of his actions whether or not it yielded any results.

"Rather like a dog on the scent," Snape muttered after the man left.

Hermione giggled. "I thought the same thing, a terrier after a vole."

Severus turned the conversation back to her. "So. You're rich," he stated bluntly.

She blushed and nodded. "An heiress of the Granger fortune, actually. I was born into it, as were my grandfather, my father, his siblings and their children."

"And you've not told anyone? Not even your friends?" he asked, sneering at the word friends. "I find it hard to believe you could restrain yourself from helping out the Weasleys."

She shrugged. "I would have offered, and they would have refused, but I didn't have control of my money until I reached my majority. It was held in trust by my solicitor. I was a millionaire more than eleven times over when I started at Hogwarts. I receive a million a year, plus interest, as long as I do nothing to hurt the family name."

Severus considered her notoriety in the _Daily Prophet. _"I don't suppose your exploits over the last seven years count at all. So what does it entail, being heiress to the Granger fortune?" Other than the Malfoys, he had no idea how the wealthy lived.

She sighed, resigned to confessing everything. "No scandals. Stay out of the gossip columns. Put in appearances at all the best social events. I have to marry well. In short, do nothing to disgrace the family name or I forfeit the remainder of my yearly allowances." She could see he wasn't impressed. "Oh, don't look at me like that! I don't care about the money. I just want to do right by my family."

"I always thought you were bound to marry the Weasley boy," he commented.

She snorted. "No. I admit I was attracted to him for a time, but you learn a lot about someone when you're living with them. A year of adversity was a real eye-opener. It turned out he wasn't the man I thought he was."

To her surprise, Snape didn't jump on the opportunity to disparage Ron. "And how are you, a witch, supposed to marry well in the Muggle world?" He cut straight to the point.

"I don't know," she answered, trying not to cry. "I don't really fit in here anymore. I can't deny my desire to remain in the wizarding world, but I don't want to hurt my family, either. I guess I'll try to find another Muggle-born like me, or a half-blood. Justin Finch-Fletchley is available, but I suspect he's gay."

"And a pompous arse," Snape muttered darkly.

Hermione smiled, but didn't comment. "Dean Thomas would be all right, I suppose."

"He hasn't any money or connections," Snape pointed out, confused.

"Nor does he have any scandal attached to his name in the Muggle world. Money isn't a requirement. I have more money than I'll ever spend in my lifetime. The problem is finding someone decent who isn't put off by me, my personality, looks, or intelligence and isn't going to divorce me and abscond with half my money, putting my name in the tabloids in the process," she despaired.

"If I wasn't twenty years your senior, your former teacher, and an ex-Death Eater with a dark past I'd marry you myself," he asserted.

She smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Severus, that's very sweet. But don't joke about this. I'm tempted to make you honor that declaration. None of that matters in the Muggle world, after all." In the privacy of her own mind, she couldn't help but wish he was serious.

He brutally quashed the warmth that bloomed suddenly in his chest. Though she didn't laugh, the hurdles of the wizarding world still applied, regardless of the supposed easy acceptance of the Muggles. _But she didn't laugh,_ the foolish part of his mind reiterated.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, smirking. _There, let her make of that what she will,_ his Slytherin mind offered in concession.

They returned their attention to making a plan of action for tracking down Tobias Snape.

"I'll take you to the public library tomorrow and you can search the city directories for your former neighbors. In the meantime, I'll go to the Ministry and see if there are any records of your father trying to make contact with your mother or anyone else in the wizarding world," she detailed. "Oh! One more thing …" she exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and hastening up the stairs, leaving a bemused Severus sitting on the couch.

She returned a few moments later and held out a galleon to him. He eyed it suspiciously before taking it from her. She pulled her wand from her sleeve and tapped the second galleon she was holding; his coin turned very warm in his hand.

"Read it," she instructed. He saw the words '_This is how we'll communicate' _inscribed around the outside of the coin. Severus was impressed. She spent a few moments teaching him the incantation.

"When you're finished at the library, contact me through the galleon and I'll Apparate back to you. We'll drive back home from there."

He couldn't help but notice how animated she became when she had a project. He recalled her history of trying to free the house-elves, her fight to save Hagrid's Hippogriff, her organization of the D.A., and her steadfast support of Potter. She always seemed to need something to fight for.

So why wasn't she fighting for herself?

The next morning, they ate their breakfasts with an air of anxious anticipation whirling around them. The drive to the library was tense but uneventful, Hermione warily watching his every move as he drove through the slushy streets.

When they arrived, Hermione took him to the section housing the city directories and area newspapers and watched him set to work, placing pen and paper to one side to make notes.

She grasped his shoulder in encouragement. "I'll be back in a few hours if you don't contact me beforehand." He nodded, already concentrating on his task. He spared a glance through his hair to watch her retreating form as she made her way out.

Hermione Apparated to the alley across from the Ministry, checking for nearby Muggles before exiting to the street. She crossed the icy pavement to the call box, slipped inside and lifted the handset to her ear. She dialed the number 6-2-4-4-2, and after announcing her name and reason for the visit, her visitor's badge appeared in the coin return. She pinned it to her blouse as she descended into the Ministry's off-street entrance.

The Ministry was bustling with activity when she entered the Atrium. She was glad to see that awful monstrosity missing from the fountain. There was a plain but beautiful fountain now, devoid of the horrible works the wizards called art. The previous statue before Voldemort's reign wasn't much better than that with which he had replaced it.

She made her way to the lifts, ignoring the people pointing at her and whispering. When the lift doors opened she walked straight into Ron and Harry.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, delighted. She was crushed in a double hug, feeling a bit like the stuffing was being squeezed out of her. They finally released her, but pulled her with them toward an unoccupied conference room. "What brings you here?" Harry asked as he climbed up on the edge of the table.

"Yeah, I thought you were 'taking a few months off to relax and unwind after the NEWTs,'" Ron added, repeating what she had told them. He flopped down gracelessly into one of the padded swivel chairs that surrounded the table. Hermione pulled out another chair for herself and sat, knowing she wouldn't escape without filling them in.

In truth, she was taking the time off to recover from more than a year and a half of living with the boys non-stop. After the final battle at Hogwarts, they had all stayed at Hermione's for eight months while studying for their exams and preparing Grimmauld Place for permanent occupation. She discovered the boys were no more civilized in a home than they were in a tent.

_Might as well get it over with now_, she thought. "I'm doing some investigating, actually. Would you know where I might find information on a Muggle trying to make contact with a witch or wizard? You see, Professor Snape's father has been missing for about twenty years, and I'm trying to help find him."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. "Another project, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I guess you could say that. After I showed him how to use my computer, I discovered why he really wanted to use it. You know how Slytherins are; they have to manipulate you into thinking it was your idea," she chuckled fondly.

"You're friends with him now?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," she admitted. Ron rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "What?"

Ron snorted. "Nothing. Only you've always had a soft spot for the git, haven't you? I'm not really that surprised. How'd he manage to worm his way in?"

They weren't mad, so that was something. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"The Muggle neighborhood where he lived is being torn down. Most of the properties were vacant, so his father's house is being bought by the government. Minerva told him I had room, so he's staying with me now," she explained.

Another glance between them, and the boys suddenly burst out laughing. "It's a dream come true!" Ron guffawed, clutching his sides.

"Yeah, having a teacher all to herself, all the time!" Harry added, with an unattractive snort. "Snape had better be careful – Hermione might not ever let him escape!"

Hermione blushed, and in spite herself, laughed as well.

Once their jocularity at Hermione's expense had run its course, Ron suggested asking his dad about which department might handle such information since Voldemort had done away with the Muggle Liaison Office, and they parted ways again with hugs and promises of future visits.

Arthur was as friendly and accommodating as ever, pushing aside the mountain of work on his desk and giving Hermione all of his attention. He directed her to the Department of Muggle Relations, a new office created since the fall of Voldemort.

"I don't know how much help they'll be, though. The department has only been around for six months, so they're only really getting it up and organized at present. Had a rough go of it, trying to assign staff, after the fiasco with the Muggle-born Registration Office under Umbridge," he explained. "Come to think on it, you'd have been a perfect candidate if you'd wanted it."

Hermione graciously accepted the compliment while shuddering internally at the thought of spending any significant time in a place that had brought her nothing but terror in the past. Her right hand rose to her stomach and rubbed unconsciously at the scar bisecting her torso.

"Well, I haven't made a decision yet on what I want to do in the future. I'm enjoying this time off from worrying over Harry, NEWTs, and the war," she said, trying to put him off gently. "Just living in a house instead of a tent is a pleasure I'll never take for granted again."

She made her exit with plenty of well-wishes for the family, and walked down the hall to the Muggle Relations office, just to confirm they hadn't any information for her. It was a fairly small office, probably no bigger than Arthur's, but seemed larger with only one file cabinet in it and two tiny desks.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted the woman at the first desk. "I wondered if you might have received information on a Muggle man trying to contact a witch incarcerated in Azkaban?" At the woman's look of alarm, Hermione back-tracked. "He would be her husband, and I believe she's due for release very soon."

"It doesn't ring any bells," the witch stated, appearing to think it over. "What's the witch's name?"

"Eileen Prince Snape."

Again the woman looked startled. "Severus Snape's mother?"

With a sharp nod and a glare from Hermione, the witch collected herself, rose and turned to the filing cabinet. "It's not very likely. I'm certain I would've noticed that if it came through here." She shuffled through several files, finally turning back empty-handed. "Sorry, Miss Granger. There's been no such report to this office. Did you try the Auror department yet? They oversee the management of Azkaban; maybe they'll have a record, or possibly an intercepted letter. The prisoners aren't allowed to receive information from the outside except what's been approved by the Auror department."

"Thank you. You've been very helpful," Hermione admitted, chagrined. She bowed her head slightly in a silent apology and left in search of Magical Law Enforcement.

She found Auror Savage**,** whom she remembered being stationed at Hogwarts for a time. He smiled when he recognized her, ushering her into his cubicle and offering her a chair.

After she repeated much of what she'd told the witch in Muggle Relations, Auror Savage sent a memo flying through the air toward the main office door.

"Our records department will get back to me in a few minutes," he said. "In the meantime, would you care for some tea?"

A brief discussion of changes to the Ministry ensued as they sipped their tea**,** with Hermione surreptitiously checking the time on her watch. She was surprised to see she had been at the Ministry for over two hours already. She wondered if Severus was having any better luck than she was.

The return memo yielded no information. Somehow, Hermione wasn't surprised. She thanked Savage for his assistance, asked for the Vital Records department and got back in the lift. She might as well take a look at the records while she was there.

A young man so similar in demeanor to Percy Weasley as to make her uncomfortable stood to greet her when she entered the too-quiet office. She suspected he didn't get much company.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. Reginald Dongle at your service. How may I help you?"

"I'm interested in any records you may have on file for Eileen Prince Snape, a witch, married to Tobias Snape, a Muggle. Would it be possible for me to see them?" Not sure if wizarding law allowed civilians access to personal information, she briefly considered she ought to have asked Auror Savage to look it up for her.

"I'll have to cast a Privacy charm on them before you can read them. It will block out things that aren't considered public knowledge," he warned.

Hermione was shown a seat at an unused desk while Mr. Dongle went to pull up the files. When he returned, Hermione was surprised when he sat across from her at the desk to watch her. Did he think she was going to steal something? Or spill something on them? She did her best to ignore him while she read through the file.

"What does this mean?" she asked, pointing to Eileen's parents names spelled out in purple ink on the Snape's marriage document.

"The purple ink denotes the person is deceased," he replied. "When someone passes on, the file is updated automatically." She was pleased to note both Eileen and Tobias were still living.

Next she saw Severus' wizarding birth certificate and felt a pang of affection for the irascible man.

The next sheet was a letter from a wizarding solicitor. Although much of the document was blurred for privacy, the purple ink liberally dispersed throughout made it clear that it was a settlement of an estate – Eileen apparently had an inheritance coming to her, though Hermione was unable to determine what it entailed.

A few Wizengamot documents pertaining to her trials and incarceration followed. As Severus had said, her release was imminent. Her photograph was attached, showing a homely, dark haired witch with eyes as penetrating and arresting as Severus' own.

And then she came upon what she had been searching for: a letter from Tobias. As with most of the parchments in the file, much of the pertinent information was blurred out. Hermione focused her formidable mind on what was before her, committing every detail to memory. All they needed was a clue, and just because none of it meant anything to her, she didn't make the mistake of thinking it wouldn't mean something to Severus.

The most interesting thing about the letter was not what it said, but that it wasn't addressed to Eileen at all, but to the "Ministry of Magic, Head of the Wizengamot: Albus Dumbledore".

Well. Obviously a trip to Hogwarts was in order.

It was nearing lunchtime when she felt her coin warm in her pocket. She thanked Mr. Dongle for his assistance, apologized for taking up his time to help her and made her way out of the Ministry. She checked her coin in the alley. It read '_Meet me at the car'. _She Disapparated without a sound.


	4. Chapter 4

A.N.: Sincerest gratitude to my beta, amylouise, for going over this. Have I mentioned how wonderful she is? She's honest without being brutal, encouraging, but not demanding, and possesses an uncanny ability to spot missing and misplaced commas! I've just discovered her hidden talent: spotting my glaring Americanisms. She's a godsend!

Chapter 4: Making Progress

Severus stood from the slouched position he'd held resting against the driver's door of the Volvo as she rounded the corner of the building and headed over to him.

"I hope you fared better than I did," he muttered as he opened her car door for her. She was touched that he was acting the gentleman but knew better than to acknowledge it. That would guarantee he'd stop doing it.

She nodded, but waited until he was seated before continuing. "I did. There was a letter from your father to Albus, as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot." She started the car, backing carefully out of the space.

He eyed her sharply. "What did it say?"

Hermione regretted the fact that she had so little to tell. "I couldn't read much of it. Privacy charms blurred most of the information. When we get home, I'll write down all that I could read. There might be something in it you'll recognize that meant nothing to me or the Ministry." She could see he was disappointed. "So, did you find anything useful?"

He sighed, holding up a single sheet of notebook paper less than half filled with notes. "I'm not sure any of these are the people I'm looking for. Their names are not terribly unique."

"Any nearby? We could check them out if we're close," she suggested.

He shook his head. "I checked out the only local one before I contacted you. There wasn't anyone around, but I suspect they're probably at work. I'll Apparate to their location this evening to check again."

Hermione frowned. "Why don't we give the list to the investigator and see if he can track them down? They're Muggles, after all. Then we can go visit Dumbledore's portrait this afternoon."

His closed expression warned her he wasn't comfortable with her suggestion. "What is it?" she asked gently. When he didn't answer, she sighed and dropped the subject. They drove silently home, the snowy landscape a colorless, blurry background to their private thoughts.

Hermione set to copying down all that the letter to Dumbledore had revealed as soon as they arrived home, deciding that Severus would eventually bring up the topic of visiting Hogwarts, if that was what his internal conflict was about, or contacting the investigator when he was ready to broach it. She could hear him making their lunch in the kitchen – she hoped her china would survive the experience.

She waited patiently until she heard the tea kettle whistling and made her way to the kitchen, copy of the letter in hand. She laid it at his place setting upside-down**,** suspecting he might want to study it privately without her scrutinizing his reactions.

They ate without conversation until Hermione took her plate to the sink.

"You may contact the investigator and give the list to him," he said as he handed her the sheet of notebook paper. She noticed he had added several names since she'd seen it in the car. "I'll go to Hogwarts alone." He retrieved the letter Hermione had copied for him from the table on his way out of the room.

The investigator wasn't in his office when she called**,** so she left a message on his machine. She heard Severus Disapparate a short time later and decided it was as good a time as any to reply to her cousin's e-mail that she'd put off. It was a rehash of topics they'd covered many times before: How have you been? Have you heard from your parents? Have you met anyone?

Hermione was well aware of the clock ticking down on her entrance into her family's social network. Technically, she didn't _have _to marry. She could become an altruistic eccentric, spending the family fortune on war orphans, art galleries and museums, or Grandfather's favorite: donate to universities or hospitals so that a new wing/library/lab would be given the family name. She'd lost count of how many there were now.

But Hermione was not one for the limelight. It seemed all the options she was to choose from were destined to force her to face the public in some fashion. She didn't have a clue how she was supposed to fit into this world, with no history or background in it since she was eleven. Everyone who graced the social pages had their entire life on display to be picked apart by the masses. She didn't have anything that could be picked apart, and that in itself was a problem. Investigative reporters would be relentless in trying to find something to fill their columns. Rita Skeeter had nothing on the Muggle paparazzi.

Her parents managed to dodge the media frenzy when they went into dentistry. Their London practice was staffed with enough dentists that they really didn't need to be there, and they often took off to remote villages in poverty-stricken countries whenever they had the urge and donated their services to those in need. It was magnanimous enough of an endeavor to satisfy Grandfather Granger and the board of directors, and it was boring enough that the public lost interest and didn't bother them. They had been known to stay away for months on end, so Hermione hadn't been too concerned about their extended sojourn in Australia during the war against Voldemort. Their decision to move there permanently after the war was barely a blurb in the financial section. They sold off the London practice and started up again Down Under, once Hermione had restored their memories, and donated their services to the needy below the equator instead. Grandfather was pleased, eventually, when they pointed out that his reach was now global.

Correspondence taken care of, she returned to the kitchen to read _The_ _Daily Prophet._ Most days it went unread. Since the war, there was very little in it that interested her. Living a life split between worlds, she needed to read it occasionally to keep herself current, otherwise she wouldn't be able to follow conversations with Harry and Ron when they managed to find the time to visit – which wasn't often.

Ginny kept Harry quite busy now that he didn't have the demands of the war on his time anymore, and Ron had taken to his celebrity status as though it was his god-given right to make a spectacle of himself. When Hermione refused to participate in his ridiculous attention-seeking behavior, he stopped inviting her to go along. She followed his drunken antics in the newspapers with a great deal of anxiety at first. They had an ugly row when he impulsively brought one of his fans back to Hermione's house without thinking. He moved out the next week. She now looked back at the whole experience with a sigh of relief – she'd succeeded in escaping a potentially sticky spot when she extricated herself from him, and they'd stayed friends to boot.

The private investigator returned her call when he arrived at this office, and Hermione faxed the list to him rather than reading it off and having an error occur in the transfer.

She'd just hung up the phone when an owl arrived with a letter. She didn't recognize the owl, undoubtedly one for public use at the owl post office. It was an announcement – an engagement announcement. Apparently, Neville had finally managed to ask Hannah Abbott The Question. And she'd agreed! She was so happy for him**;** after the trials he'd had to endure in his life, he'd finally come into his own. She wondered how his Gran was adjusting to this new vibrant and strong Neville.

She wished she could go and celebrate with them. Or with Ron and Harry. Or even with Luna and Ginny. But she realized she wouldn't even know where to find any of them right now. Harry and Ron would be in Auror training somewhere. Ginny and Luna were still at Hogwarts, in the final stretch before their NEWTs. She doubted she would be welcomed at Augusta Longbottom's residence – the woman wasn't exactly known for her hospitality.

For the first time, she perceived just how isolated she had become.

If it weren't for Severus, she'd be classified a recluse!

That was a depressing thought. How had she managed to become this anti-social, lonely person? Her thoughts reverted to her first year at Hogwarts – how she had been ostracized by nearly everybody for being too uptight, too bookish.

Neville had been there for her then, before Harry and Ron. She had spent more of her time back then crying in her crimson-canopied bed, avoiding the snide remarks from her classmates in the common room, than she'd spent in the library in her later years. Wouldn't that surprise some people? But they didn't know, because she never told anyone how terribly lonely she had been. And now, she feared she might be falling back into that horrible place.

Well. Nothing for it then. It was time for a bath – or some ice cream. Maybe both.

Where was Crookshanks?

Severus appeared at the Hogwarts gates dressed exactly like he'd always done. His cloak billowed out behind him in the bitingly cold breeze. He tapped his wand on the lock, and it clicked open. Minerva hadn't removed him from the wards then. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. At least the students should be in classes at this time of the afternoon. He didn't relish the stares and whispering he would have had to endure from the students and staff if he'd come during lunch.

It was difficult coming back here. It would have been impossible with Hermione along. Nearly all his best and worst memories dwelt in this place. After the war, he'd thought never to return to it. If not for Albus, he'd never have taught a class. It was not a pursuit he'd envisioned for his life. His was not a temperament suited for dealing with hormone infested imbeciles whose only thoughts were food, sex and Quidditch.

His foolish choices as a young man had put paid to any great career he may have had, though. His desire for Lily Evans, illogical as that desire had been, was the start of the decline that had been his life so far. As a boy, he had no reason to believe Lily wouldn't be his in the end. They were friends, close friends, who told each other all their secrets. And Lily was an affectionate child, always hugging and holding hands. It was really no wonder he fell as hard as he did for her. Never in his life had he been so easily accepted, until Hermione. The other children at his Muggle school made fun of his odd clothing and strange appearance and behavior. Lily overlooked those things, treating him as though he mattered.

In the end he hadn't mattered, though. Once Lily discovered in their fourth year how attractive the other boys thought she was, she flirted shamelessly. Still, Severus couldn't let go of the dream. She'd come back to him someday, he was sure. His Lily was sweet and kind, and she loved him, he knew she did. Only he never was able to distinguish the difference between kinds of love. Love was love, wasn't it? How wrong he turned out to be.

The wards had alerted Minerva to his arrival, and she was in the Entrance Hall waiting for him when he opened the great front door. She looked glad to see him, even as she appeared to be somewhat apprehensive.

"Severus, it's good to see you," she smiled gently as she took his hands and clutched them warmly within her own. "I trust Miss Granger is treating you well?"

"Indeed. I must admit she has been far more generous and accommodating than I had any reason to expect," he agreed, inclining his head.

Minerva chuckled. "Hermione has always had a healthy respect for her teachers. I'm surprised she hasn't driven you to distraction; I imagine she's overcome your intimidation tactics by now and is busily picking your brain."

"Actually, no. I have found her to be respectful of my privacy. She rarely intrudes unless it's important, and her friends have been mercifully absent, for which I am eternally grateful." Now that he thought about it, it seemed rather odd that Potter and Weasley hadn't been to visit once in the weeks since he'd moved in.

Minerva smirked. "They aren't joined at the hip, you know," she admonished playfully. "So, is this a social visit, then?"

He frowned, suddenly unsure of himself. "I need to speak with Dumbledore's portrait. I hope it isn't an imposition?" he asked, only then realizing he probably should have owled ahead. He could see the brief disappointment she tried to hide.

"Of course not," Minerva tutted. "He's been asking about you," she added. "I believe he's tormented with what he asked of you during the war, as well he should be." There was a fierceness in her tone, and Severus could well imagine the discussions that had gone on in the Head's office since she'd taken the position.

She accompanied him to the gargoyle, offering up the password, "Haggis," and the revolving staircase appeared. "Please join me for tea in the teacher's lounge when you've finished," she proffered, grasping his forearm lightly before he headed up. "I could use some good conversation for a change."

He very much doubted he'd be in a disposition suited to genial discourse after his discussion with Albus, but he could hardly refuse her offer. "Certainly," he agreed with a nod of his head.

The anxiety of entering the Head's office after nearly a year built steadily as the stairs carried him upward. His less than stellar stint as Headmaster was an ugly stain on his teaching career, his exit a mark for which he would be forever remembered – the most dastardly of Hogwarts headmasters.

Entering the room was, therefore, a bit of a shock. Evidently his visit had been heralded, as the inhabitants of each and every portrait struggled to a standing position and proceeded to applaud him. He was uncomfortable with the acclaim, but it was better than the alternative, he supposed. He flushed under their praise, his head bowed until the cheers quieted.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "That was quite unnecessary, I assure you. Now, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate a little privacy to discuss a few things with Dumbledore," he asked politely, watching as the portraits emptied of their occupants.

When it was clear they were alone, he glanced up at Albus' face. The old man wore a proud smile, incongruously framed by tears running unchecked down his bearded cheeks. "Severus, my dear boy! I'd begun to despair of ever seeing you again," he chided.

"Don't be ridiculous," Severus scoffed. "My portrait will hang in here someday. You will have me as a captive audience in perpetuity. Your machinations assured that, at least." He wasn't sure how he felt about being a permanent part of the austere group of former headmasters and headmistresses, now that he thought of it.

Albus chuckled delightedly. "Better companions than you and Minerva I could hardly have hoped for," he admitted, eyes twinkling merrily.

"I've come for a reason, Albus," Severus began, settling into the chair across from Minerva's desk, directly in view of Dumbledore. "It's about my father."

Albus collected himself, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief, his glasses resting at the top of his forehead. He gestured for Severus to continue, his eyes no longer twinkling but sharp and attentive.

"As I'm sure you are aware, my mother is due for release from Azkaban soon. In the meantime, I've been trying to locate my father. I've not heard from him since I joined the Death Eaters, and I'm certain my mother will wish to be reunited with him upon her release," he explained. "Miss Granger has been helping in my search recently, and a visit to the Ministry turned up a letter he wrote you shortly after my mother's incarceration. I'd be interested in any information you can share from that letter that may help me find him."

The earnestness of Severus' appeal struck Dumbledore in a way he hadn't been affected since the younger wizard first turned to him to plead for Lily's safety. Perhaps the taciturn man was ready to move on with his life, finally putting his regrets aside and dealing with the outcome of the war. Regrettably, he had nothing of use to impart.

"Ah, yes, I vaguely recall such a letter. I remember turning it over to the Ministry for safe-keeping in the event of my death, so that your father could be contacted upon your mother's release. But as you know, a portrait is only a shade of the person, and I really have no further information to give you. I am sorry, my boy. Perhaps if you were to contact Kingsley Shacklebolt, he would be able to retrieve the letter for you," Albus' portrait suggested gently.

Disappointment clouded Severus' face. "Unfortunately, the letter ended up in Vital Records, where they've applied a Privacy spell to it. Only you or my father would be able to read it now, and since you're dead and my father's a Muggle, that letter is now worthless. Miss Granger saw the letter and copied it for me, but there weren't any usable details left uncovered," he divulged.

"Don't lose faith, Severus. I've found Miss Granger to be surprisingly resourceful. If she's helping you in your search, have no fear. She'll find him," Albus coaxed encouragingly.

Severus left the tower shortly afterward. Making his way down to the teacher's lounge, he recalled the many times Hermione had solved a complicated problem. From deciphering his riddle in her first year, to the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, to something as mundane as getting his Muggle birth certificate, she was a solution-seeking dynamo. It was the very reason he sought her out in the first place. He couldn't help but feel somewhat hopeful.

Minerva served tea while regaling him with gossip of his former colleagues and students, since he'd been out of the loop for so long. He listened politely, nodding and commenting when required.

"How is Miss Granger, Severus? I know she took her parents' rejection quite hard. Has she brought it up with you at all?" Minerva asked.

"She's adjusting, I believe. She's had some moments where it is obvious she's missing them, but overall she seems to be coping well. It helps if she's busy, as I'm sure you recall," he said.

Minerva nodded. "I do," she said, "and that brings up another topic I wanted to discuss with you." She sighed. "I'm old, Severus. I have trouble keeping up with my Head duties and teaching at the same time. I've been thinking of apprenticing Hermione in Transfiguration to prepare her to take over for me. Do you think she'd consider it?"

His stomach plummeted. Hermione's future loomed large, from the prospect of meeting her family's demands to finding rewarding employment, and now this. He knew his feelings in the decision mattered not at all, but he couldn't help hoping that somehow he'd be a part of it in some way. He forced that thought down as far as he could.

"I honestly don't know," he answered. "She hasn't seemed interested in finding a career, from what I've seen, but that could all change very quickly. I can't imagine that she would be satisfied remaining idle for much longer."

Minerva exhaled, relieved. "Would you suggest it to her? Or maybe hint at it? If she's got no interest in it, I don't want her to feel obliged to accept just to appease me. I know she loved this old castle, and she'd be a perfect fit, but I could find someone else if she isn't interested."

"I'll see what I can do," he offered. He hated to crush Minerva's hopes – he knew precisely how difficult her job was.

"I really hoped you'd come back as well, Severus. I know you despised teaching, but if you wanted the headship back, I'd do my very best to get it for you," she pleaded. "These old bones just aren't recovering from the war as well as I could have hoped. I'm looking forward to a long retirement, lounging on a beach somewhere, someday very soon."

As much as he'd wanted to reject the suggestion outright, he promised to think about it. He had entertained a secret desire during the quiet years between Voldemort's deaths to actually earn the helm in his future. The way he'd attained it, however, soured his dream. But if Hermione was to come back here, then he'd like to be here as well. He didn't want to think about what that made him. Stalker? Pedophile? Pathetic, certainly. He noticed he wasn't succeeding very well at pushing those thoughts away anymore.

He left Hogwarts with more questions than answers.

He Apparated directly into the kitchen. The house was very quiet and the shadows of the late afternoon were claiming most of the room, which was odd. Surely Hermione hadn't left. A glance at the key rack at the back door confirmed both sets of car keys were still hanging there. He made his way into the sitting room and found Hermione curled up asleep on the sofa, an empty ice cream carton on the side table.

She was wearing a bathrobe and slippers. The knotted tumble of hair had come loose from its clip and was covering most of her face. A closer look revealed tear tracks dried on her flushed cheeks. The pile of wet tissues should have tipped him off sooner, he realized. Amid the clutter he spotted the announcement, picking it up and reading it without even thinking about it.

So, Longbottom was engaged. He had to admit the boy had matured reasonably well during his final year at school. He still flinched, however, whenever Severus entered the same room. He didn't suppose the boy would ever get over that. Why his engagement would upset Hermione so much, he couldn't fathom.

He put the envelope back where it had been and picked up the empty carton and spoon, intending to return them to the kitchen. The sound of the spoon sliding against the cardboard container startled Hermione awake, and she sat up abruptly. It took her a moment to comprehend where she was and Severus' location standing next to her.

"Um ... sorry. I'll clean up," she muttered, making to rise and trying to gather the cloud of tissues. Avoiding eye contact, she missed the quirked eyebrow as he watched her.

"I never realized you harbored such tender feelings for Mr. Longbottom," he sneered. "How disappointing it must be to find he has offered for another." He hated how spiteful his words sounded, even to his own ears, and wondered why he was acting as if he was the spurned lover all of a sudden.

Hermione snorted, amused. "It's called a pity party, Severus. I was feeling lonely when I realized I wasn't able to celebrate with any of my friends, as they all have lives that don't include me anymore," she sighed. "I don't begrudge any of them their happiness. Besides, it's my own fault. I'm the one who dropped out of their sphere, not the other way around. The shock of Neville's announcement got me thinking about my own circumstances, and I started imagining myself as a hermit surrounded by cats." Her lip curled in disgust at her own piteous behavior.

"I, for one, have never minded being left alone," he admitted. "I find most people tedious to be around for very long, present company excepted." He was surprised to find it was true; Hermione's friendship was beginning to be very important to him.

Hermione smiled cheekily at him. "I bet that hurt to admit." Then she frowned. "But you're right. I'm finding more and more that I desire your company above all others. I hope we can remain friends in the future."

He grunted, which she took as an affirmative. "You are still, and will remain, an insufferable know-it-all," he said, but it lacked his customary vitriol. He turned on his heel, carrying the empty carton to the kitchen. Hermione smiled fondly at his retreating back.

As it was still relatively early, Hermione went to change in her room, discarding the wad of tissues along the way. The telephone rang as she emerged.

After answering it, she covered the mouthpiece. "Severus? Pick up the extension in the kitchen. It's Mr. Gibson, the investigator, on the line," she called out. She heard the unmistakable click of the line being picked up.

"Go ahead, Mr. Gibson, Severus is on the line now," Hermione said.

"I've located three of the people on your list so far. The first two had no information, but the third one said he'd run into your father a few years back in Leeds. Said he was working as a delivery truck driver for an office supply outfit, didn't remember the name, but he seemed well and in good spirits. I thought you'd want to know. At least now I have a lead. And I'll continue checking the people on the list," Mr. Gibson told them.

After due thanks, they hung up. Hermione sought Severus out, wanting to discuss what Mr. Gibson had discovered. She was confused at his disgruntled demeanor when she found him pacing.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be pleased," she asked.

"He's been on the case for one bloody day and found leads already," he groused. "I've been looking for more than fifteen years!"

"Well, I imagine he's got tons of experience in this type of work, probably has connections built up over years of doing just this kind of thing. I'm not really that surprised, truthfully. If we were searching in the wizarding world, I'm certain you'd have been equally successful," she added, trying to placate him. "Anyway, I'm sure we'll get a written report of how he went about his search. It's part of his job, to document his movements, in order to validate his fees."

His mood suitably soothed, he dropped heavily into the chair by the mantle. "I wonder why I hadn't thought of hiring a Muggle investigator before this," he admitted.

Hermione sat on the sofa facing him. "There wasn't any reason to, before. If it hadn't been for the condemning of his house, he'd have made contact with you there, and all this could have been avoided. Although I'd have missed out on becoming friends with you," she confessed.

He tried to smother his grin, but she saw it and grinned back.

"So, how did your visit to Hogwarts go?" she asked, changing the subject.

He sighed, dreading the upcoming revelations. "Dumbledore's portrait doesn't remember much about the letter, other than forwarding it on to the Ministry shortly after receiving it. It is only a shade of the man, after all, so not everything he knew is transferred to the canvas."

"That's too bad," Hermione commiserated.

Severus waited a beat, then plunged in. "I had a talk with the Headmistress while I was there. She's looking for a Transfiguration apprentice to take over teaching her classes. She said she's looking to retire." He watched her carefully for any signs of interest and was both relieved and disappointed when he saw none. "She also offered to try to get me reinstated as Headmaster if I wanted it."

Her eyes flicked to his in mild alarm. "Do you want it?" she asked breathlessly.

"Possibly," he acknowledged. "It would depend on what other offers I get," he added. "I can't live off you indefinitely, after all." He smirked mischievously at her.

_Oh, but you could, _she thought, eyes glinting merrily. "I suppose not. After all, how would it look to the neighbors?" she agreed with a cheeky smile. "What other offers have you had?"

He looked away. "No promising ones. I've been contacted by some disreputable sorts who wanted potions made for them, but nothing I'd risk Azkaban for."

"Well, you can stay here as long as you like. As I've said before, I've more money than I'll ever spend, so it's not a hardship having you here. Plus, it keeps me from becoming a recluse."

As it was the second time that day she'd mentioned it, Severus did something he'd never done before. "Come on, we're going out tonight," he stood, offering her a hand up.

She started, hesitating, before taking his hand. "Where are we going?" she asked, bewildered.

"Diagon Alley," he said, Summoning their cloaks. He wrapped his arm around her and Disapparated them away.

The bustle of people in Diagon Alley making their way from place to place was enough to brighten Hermione's spirits considerably. They walked leisurely down the main thoroughfare, looking in storefront windows, commenting on the wares displayed. Several people stared at the two of them, walking arm in arm, but none dared to approach or comment.

Spotting a sale at Flourish and Blotts, Hermione coaxed him into the store. She smiled at the smell of new books that assailed them when they entered. They perused the shelves, discussing authors and topics on offer as they meandered, picking up books and putting them back as they debated the merits of each one. Half an hour later, they had made their selections and left the store with their purchases.

"I'm rather famished," Severus admitted, steering them toward the Leaky Cauldron. "Let's get something to eat."

Once they had settled at an empty table near the front that let out on Muggle London, Tom came and took their orders. They sat quietly a few minutes while Hermione reflected on the times she'd come here with her parents at the start of each new school year to do her school shopping.

She suddenly gasped, stunned.

"What is it?" Severus turned toward the entrance, not seeing anything to be concerned about.

She cast _Muffliato_ around them hastily. "I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before!" Hermione exclaimed. "Severus, did your mother ever bring your father to Diagon Alley?"

"Of course," he answered, confused as to where she was going.

"Then he knows about the Leaky Cauldron!" she continued excitedly.

"But he's a Muggle," Severus stated, dumbfounded.

"Yes, but once he'd been inside, it was no longer hidden from him. I know my parents could see it once Professor McGonagall brought us here the first time. Don't you see? It's a connection to the wizarding world that he didn't need you or your mother for!"

Severus paled as the implications finally set in. He glanced around the room looking for Tom, but didn't see him, and supposed he was in the kitchen getting their meals together.

Hermione saw his anxiety and reached out to grasp his wrist. "Let's wait until the place clears out some, all right? We don't need to have your family history show up on the front page of the paper."

Severus nodded. There were no empty tables, so he figured they were in for a long wait. His attention was drawn to the entrance to Muggle London, watching the hoards of people passing, their breaths puffing out in clouds in front of their faces in the cold air, oblivious to the pub hidden from their view. He noticed one or two who seemed to actually see it, though, and was encouraged by that.

A waiter brought out their meals a short while later, but a glance at the bar confirmed Tom hadn't left the building. Hermione went up to the bar to speak with him, leaving Severus at the table to wonder what she was doing. She returned with a Firewhisky and a butterbeer.

"Tom said his helper will tend bar tonight**, **and he'll meet with us in the back after the dinner crowd disperses," she told him as she set the Firewhisky in front of him. "Drink that. You look like you're about to jump out of your skin," she admonished.

Severus took a sip, grimacing. "I don't usually drink this stuff," he admitted. "It tastes foul."

"Sorry. You looked as though you needed something bracing. What would you have preferred?"

"Brandy, or lacking that, wine." Seeing her move to stand, he grabbed at her arm. "This will do. It's probably better, anyhow. Faster acting," he conceded, taking another sip and starting in on his lamb chops.

They ate while they outlined the plan to gather as much information from Tom as they could without divulging too much. As Hermione had said, it wouldn't do to have Severus' most humiliating moments splashed across the pages of the _Daily_ _Prophet._

Two butterbeers, a Firewhisky, and a snifter of brandy later saw the last of the patrons clear out of the dining room. There were still a few lingerers at the bar, but Tom set his bar rag aside and motioned to them to join him in a back room.

Hermione elected to leave the questioning to Severus, as he was the one with the most experience in deflecting suspicion. She couldn't dissemble to save her life. Well, except for that time at Malfoy Manor, she remembered, fingering the scar at her neck unconsciously.

"Snape, Miss Granger," Tom greeted cordially, "what can I do fer yeh?"

"Do you get many Muggles in here?" Severus asked, getting straight to the point.

"Nearly every day," Tom admitted, eyebrows raised.

"Any that are alone?"

"Occasionally. Why? Yeh lookin' fer someone?"

"Yes, as it happens, we are. Miss Granger pointed out to me earlier that once a Muggle has entered this establishment, they can always find it again." At Tom's nod, he continued. "I've been trying to locate a Muggle man for some time and thought he might have come in here looking for me."

Tom thought hard for a few seconds. "No, can't say I recall anyone asking fer yeh by name. A man, yeh say? Could yeh describe 'im? Only, I get so many in here, it might help to narrow it down a bit."

"An older man, brown hair that may have gone gray, probably clean-shaven. He might have asked for ale," Severus suggested, remembering his father's favorite pub beverage.

No spark of recognition was in evidence, so Hermione offered, "He may have parked a delivery van outside."

"Oh, yes! I remember 'im. Comes in about once a month since the beginnin' of the year. Asked me to hold all the old _Prophets_ for 'im, then he spends an hour or so readin' them over a meal before he leaves again. Good tipper," he added. "Seems like a nice enough fellow. That the guy yer lookin' fer?"

Severus glanced at Hermione. He could see she was struggling to contain a smile. "Probably," he answered. "When was the last time you saw him?"

Tom scrunched up his face, glancing at the ceiling. "'Bout three weeks ago, mebbe. My pile of _Prophets_ is gettin' pretty big, so I'll be expecting to see 'im soon. Yeh want a Floo-call when he shows?"

"That would be appreciated," Hermione assented. "You wouldn't by any chance remember anything about the van? Possibly the name of the company he works for?" she added hopefully.

"No words on it, just some sort of symbol. It don't mean nothin' in our world, so I don't know what it refers to," he confided.

"Could you draw it?" Hermione suggested.

Tom got up, crossed the room to a table in the corner and collected a quill, ink, and a torn piece of parchment. He sat down and sketched a crude rendition of a logo formed from initials curved around each other.

"I think that's it, best I can recall, anyway," he said, pushing the sketch across the table to them. "It struck me as very like the patches on the Aurors robes, yeh know: M.O.M., Ministry of Magic."

As Hermione looked at it, she could see what he meant, though the initials were M.O.D.

"Thank you, Tom," Severus said, getting to his feet. He reached out, grasping Hermione's elbow to help her up as well, picking up the piece of parchment and stuffing it in his robe pocket with his other hand. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't alert the gentleman that we're looking for him when he shows up."

"'Course not," Tom scoffed. "I'm not a total idiot, am I? Don't rightly know what yeh want 'im fer, but if Miss Granger here's involved, can't be nothin' bad, now can it? Her best friend bein' Potter, an' all."

Severus nodded curtly and escorted Hermione out the back of the pub to Diagon Alley. His brusqueness alerted Hermione that he was disturbed about something, and as she replayed the last of the conversation in her head, she realized what had upset him.

"He didn't mean anything by it, you know. He wasn't trying to insinuate that you'd do anything bad to your father, only that he was aware of me being Muggle-born and with Harry being an Auror, he knew whatever business we have with your father, it had to be legitimate." She wound her arm around his back to comfort him, glad when he didn't push her away. She rubbed his back soothingly through his robes as they walked, feeling the tension easing away and only releasing him when they reached the Apparition point.

"We're really going to find him," he stated wonderingly, more to himself than to her.

She smiled. "I believe so," she agreed, before Disapparating into the sitting room at home. Severus appeared a split second later, and watched bemusedly as Hermione pulled out the last few days' worth of Muggle newspapers from the pile at the hearth. She started leafing through them quickly while kneeling on the floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Hermione glanced up. "Looking for that logo. If it's a national company, they may have an advert in the paper. Oh! Maybe we should check the telephone directory," she muttered as she got up off the floor and headed to the kitchen.

Severus shook his head, muttering to himself about flighty witches, before settling himself on the floor to look through the papers himself. He pulled out the Sunday edition with its abundance of glossy circulars falling out of it, figuring that was the best place to start.

Hermione came back in, leafing through the directory. "Nothing," she admitted. "Maybe the company doesn't have a branch in this area," she speculated.

She settled back on the floor, picking up where she had left off. They spent over half an hour meticulously scanning the papers.

"Here," Severus pointed excitedly at the paper in his hand. In the classifieds was an advertisement for a delivery driver wanted. "Middlesex Office Depot." The logo at the top confirmed it was the company they were seeking.

Hermione hummed noncommittally, frowning.

"What?" Severus asked.

"I seem to remember hearing of them before. Come with me," she stood, heading downstairs, "I want to check something out."

She sat down at the computer, thankfully still on, as Severus had made a habit of using it fairly often and rarely shut it down anymore. A few keystrokes, and Hermione's suspicions were confirmed.

"Twelve locations," she read off the screen in a small, defeated voice as Severus stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder. "It could take some time to track him down."

"At least we have narrowed it down considerably," Severus allowed, not letting Hermione's tone discourage him. "We'll pass this information on to Gibson in the morning. Let him earn his fees," he smirked at her.

_Please review!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N.: Everything belongs to Jo. I'll put them back when I'm done playing with them, I promise._

_A.N.2: Everyone put your hands together to thank my beta, amylouise, for finding and fixing my mistakes so I can give you the best possible chapter to read. She's the best!_

Chapter 5: Breakthroughs

After breakfast the next morning**,** Hermione paged Mr. Gibson. When he phoned them back**,** she supplied him with the name of the company they believed Tobias Snape was working for**,** based on the delivery van logo they described to him.

"That should be a good lead," he admitted. "I'll get on to my contact at TGWU and see if he's listed."

"Pardon me," Severus interrupted on the extension, "but what does that acronym refer to?"

"Transport and General Workers' Union**;** surely you've heard of them?" Mr. Gibson questioned.

"Of course. I mistook what you said is all. Must have a bad connection," Snape said lamely.

Hermione backed him up. "Yes, it is rather scratchy at this end. Are you on a mobile phone?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Sorry about the connection. I'll call you from my office phone when I have an answer from my contact."

After completing the call, they sat down to read their book purchases from the day before, anxiously awaiting Mr. Gibson's report. The morning crawled by**,** and Severus, growing more agitated by the minute, started pacing as the wait drew out.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, do sit down!" Hermione admonished. "You're making me nervous. He'll call as soon as he has anything worthwhile to report."

The phone finally rang at eleven o'clock, startling them both out of their seats. Severus picked up first, obviously overcoming his dislike of all things Muggle.

"...unfortunately, it seems he's moved. I didn't get a forwarding address, but that's not unusual. Typically, the member contacts the union once they've established their new address and a position with a new company. According to his employer, he left there a week ago. Said he'd collect his last paycheck in person**,** and that they should hold it for him since he didn't have a new address yet. I figured I'd check out this lead before I called you. Good thing, too. I hate giving information that doesn't amount to anything in the end. I asked the secretary at the union if she'd let me know his new address when he gives it. Told her I was a friend from the old neighborhood and I wanted to meet up over a brew."

Once they'd hung up, Severus stood shaking and bewildered for some moments, worrying Hermione.

"It's so bloody frustrating!" he raged, finally. "Just when it seems like we're getting somewhere,

now this!" he barked, waving his arms dramatically. "We're back where we started from." He sat heavily, forehead in hands, fingers threaded through his hair, pulling at the strands in agitation.

Hermione turned and headed for the kitchen. If ever there was a time for tea...

He was staring fixedly out the front windows when she came in with the tea tray, all fight seemingly drained out of him. She poured their tea, handing his over before settling on the sofa.

"This is a good thing," she began. He turned an angry glare on her. "No**,** really, it is, if you think about it. Why would he suddenly leave his job like that?" When he didn't answer, she finished. "Because he's moving to London. He knows your mother is due to get out soon. He's making it easier for us to locate him. He'll be hanging around the Leaky and the Ministry, trying to find your mother when she's released. He'll be more visible, not less." She sipped her tea, pointedly looking out the window and not at him.

He sat quietly contemplating her words, letting the tea warm his hands. Her words made a great deal of sense. "You're right," he admitted, "that is what he'll do. We should watch both places for him so when he turns up, we can follow him to wherever he's holed up. I don't want to approach him on the street or in a public place."

"I'll contact Kingsley," Hermione said, getting up to fetch parchment to write a note. "If anybody strange is hanging about the Ministry, I'm sure it's been noted. I'll tell him to caution them not to approach him if he does show up there, and to let us know straight away."

"Thank you, Hermione," Severus said catching her hand as she passed by his chair. "I appreciate all you've done for me."

She beamed at him. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could help. It's all Dumbledore's doing, you know. I'm convinced he somehow contrived to push Ron, Harry and me together, and molded me into being Harry's personal source of information and problem solver since first year. It's sort of trained my mind to work these sorts of things out."

He nodded, really seeing for the first time that he wasn't the only one Dumbledore manipulated. "Perhaps you should find a line of work where you can put those skills to use," he suggested, letting go of her hand.

She frowned. "I can't imagine such a job exists."

Scribbling her note, she reflected that Severus was becoming more and more comfortable with her, not shying away from personal contact as he had in the beginning. She had to admit she was rather enjoying smoothing down the raw edges of the man.

She activated the Floo, sending her message through to Kingsley.

An hour later, Kingsley's head appeared in the fireplace. "Hermione, it's good to see you. May I come through?"

Severus shot her an alarmed glance; she waved away his concerns. "Certainly, Kingsley," she said, smiling.

The tall black man had to stoop over significantly in order to fit through, standing from a crouch once he'd entered. Hermione stood to hug him after he'd vanished the soot from his robes. "It's great to see you, Kingsley. What brings you? I know you're very busy."

Severus had stood as well. "Minister," he greeted.

"Kingsley, if you please, Severus," the Minister corrected, reaching for Snape's hand. They shook hands amiably. "Harry's mentioned you were staying here. I hope our Hermione's been treating you well?"

"I've no complaints," Severus allowed, smirking.

Kingsley chuckled. "Well, that's some endorsement**,** coming from you," he teased good-naturedly. "If you have a moment, Severus, I have some business to discuss with you." A flicker of his eyes in Hermione's direction indicated it was a private matter.

"You may speak freely, Kingsley. Hermione is aware of the circumstances of my mother's incarceration, as well as my father's disappearance."

The Minister's eyebrows rose infinitesimally. "Very well. I got Hermione's note, and as it happens, there has been someone seen hanging around near the call box on the street. He was gone by the time we'd sent someone to investigate. I don't have a description, but I suspect it was your father. The reports were from yesterday and two days ago." He paused briefly. "Your mother's release is scheduled for Friday morning. I was going to release the information to the press, but I thought maybe I should check with you first."

"I see," Severus said.

"Why don't you wait until Thursday. Let us try to find Tobias before he finds out the release date on his own," Hermione suggested to Kingsley. "He may avoid the Leaky Cauldron and the Ministry if he knows in advance what day she's getting out, and then we won't have the opportunity to find him beforehand," she said, turned toward Severus.

Severus nodded, "She's correct. This is our only opportunity to get to him. I'd like to make contact before my mother's release if I can. It will be easier if they are not united against me, I think," he admitted, flushing his shame.

"Oh, Severus," Hermione admonished, "he's your father. He'll be glad to have you back again, you'll see."

"Are you conveniently forgetting your own circumstances?" he retorted, instantly regretting his words when he registered her stricken appearance. "Forgive me, Hermione. That was uncalled for."

Kingsley, sensing the potential for an ugly argument, hastily extricated himself from it.

"Severus, I'll wait to hear from you later this week," he said, flinging Floo powder into the hearth. "Hermione," he added, nodding his farewell as he stepped into the green flames. "Ministry of Magic!" he called out, spinning away from them.

Hermione turned and quickly left the room. Severus sighed, knowing it was all his fault, and followed her up the stairs.

"Hermione?" he called, tapping lightly on the door. "Please let me in."

"Go away," she sniffled petulantly back.

"Hermione, please? I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It was a terrible thing to say," he called through the door. She wouldn't answer him. "Remember back when we were bargaining over the Lotus? And I mentioned that I was going to piss you off? You can't say you didn't know I was a bastard," he reasoned. The door swung slowly open.

Hermione sat forlornly at the head of the bed, hugging a pillow to her middle. She looked up at him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen. "They'll want me back someday, right?" she pleaded brokenly, tears leaking from her eyes.

Severus rushed to her side, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her head to his shoulder. "Shh, of course they will," he assured her, smoothing her hair. "And I'll stay with you until they do. You'll never be alone, my dear," he soothed, kissing her head and murmuring comforting words against her unruly hair. He Summoned her box of tissues from the other side of the bed and held it out to her.

Severus held her while she cried, rocking her in his arms and cooing nonsense. When she finally quieted, he realized she'd fallen asleep. He whispered, "We can't both be broken at the same time. Who's going to hold me together?" He leaned back, pulling Hermione with him, until they were reclining against the pillows. He fell asleep with a woman in his arms for the first time in his life.

That's how Harry found them that afternoon. Fully clothed, the two of them nestled together, Hermione's head on Snape's chest, his arms holding her gently. He shook his head, wondering what his friend had gotten herself into. Debating whether to call out to wake them, he decided not to tempt fate when dealing with the vicious Potions master, instead levitating one of Hermione's tissues to tickle her face.

Her eyes blinked open, registering her position before noticing Harry standing in the open doorway. She sat up abruptly, which caused Snape to also wake. The older man was alert and armed in a split second.

"Don't you knock, Potter?" he growled.

"Door was open," Harry grinned cheekily.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, finally rousing.

"Just stopped by for a visit. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" he queried, leering suggestively.

Snape stood calmly, lowering his wand. He flicked his gaze briefly to Hermione. "I'll be downstairs," he said to her, sneering at Harry as he passed by into the hallway. Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione, grinning at her embarrassment.

He sidled over and plopped down beside her on the bed. "So, anything I should know about?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"No," she sighed, pouting. "I got upset thinking about my parents. He was comforting me. Apparently we must have fallen asleep."

"Ahh," he said, nodding. "Odd time of day to fall asleep," he pointed out. "Just going on two in the afternoon."

"It's been a stressful week, Harry. We nearly found Severus' father, but he picked up and moved last week, and we lost the trail." Hermione noticed his raised eyebrow when she used Snape's first name, but thankfully he didn't mention it.

"Yeah, Kingsley told me. Said he was here earlier. He mentioned Snape said something to upset you, and that you might need some cheering up. Looks like he was mistaken," he prodded gently.

"Yeah. Everything's good, now," Hermione smiled at him. "He's surprisingly good at cheering me up."

"Good," he smiled back. He took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "God, Hermione, I hope you know what you're doing," he said, shaking his head ruefully.

"Me, too," she admitted, biting her lip.

"He was such a nasty piece of work at Hogwarts," he brought up unnecessarily.

"We're not at Hogwarts anymore."

Harry stared at his friend for a moment. She seemed...brighter somehow. Like she looked at the beginning of a new school year. "How long have you had feelings for him, Hermione?" he asked, finally connecting the pieces.

She paled. "Um, a while, I guess. A few years," she admitted. She turned away from him. "Don't say anything, okay? I know it's stupid."

"Not stupid. Misguided, maybe," he added. She snorted. "He couldn't possibly find anybody better, though," he admitted.

Hermione hugged him. "Thanks, Harry," she whispered.

Snape crept swiftly and silently down the stairs.

He was avoiding her, she decided that evening. They'd eaten supper in silence, then he'd excused himself to go arrange his loft library over the garage. She read for a while, then checked her e-mail. After a long, hot shower, she headed downstairs in her nightgown and bathrobe for a cup of tea.

It had been five hours since he'd left. Hermione was growing anxious, nearly ready to go up to the loft and check on him when he finally opened the kitchen door. He paused when he saw her sitting at the table.

"Cup of tea, Severus?" she offered.

"Thank you, no. Good night, Hermione," he said, already headed away from her.

"Severus, wait," she called after him. "Have I done something to offend you? I hope you're not embarrassed about earlier with Harry," she rambled.

He sighed, shoulders drooping, as he stood with his back to her. "No, you didn't offend me. On the contrary, I offended you. I had my eyes opened today by your friend and his...observations. I am a 'nasty piece of work'. I hurt you. I'm likely to continue to hurt you. I don't know how to be a nice person. The feelings you think you have for me are...misplaced. I fear I've led you to believe the affection I have for you is somehow more than it is. I'm very sorry, Hermione. As soon as I can make other arrangements I'll be leaving so you can get on with your life."

"No," she whispered, her throat choked by her tears. "You're wrong. You've hurt me once in the past month, and only after I thoughtlessly belittled your fears. I know exactly who you are, Severus Snape, I've known since you showed Fudge your Dark Mark. I have no illusions about you. I know what you did willingly, and what you were forced to do. I know that you're an honorable man, brilliant, and brave**,** and witty as hell. And you're kind. To me. You told me upstairs today, on my _bed_, that you would never leave me alone. You offered to marry me a few days ago. I know it was only to make me feel better, but you _are_ kind to _me_! I don't ever want you to leave. Even if what we have, what we're building, doesn't grow any bigger, I still want you in my life." She walked to him, stopping directly behind him. "Please don't leave me," she begged.

He stood perfectly still while she spoke, not missing a word. When she drew close, his heart pounded in his ears, making it harder to hear her. But when she begged, _begged_ him to stay, he couldn't deny her. He turned back around, tears glistening in his eyes, and reached for her with trembling hands, burying his face in her curls. A choked sound escaped his throat. He swallowed hard, breathing harshly against her neck as he held her tightly to him.

Her heart rejoiced as she wrapped her arms just as tightly around him. She wasn't mistaken. This man was everything she wanted, and she was determined to prove it to him. If it took the next ten years, she would prove it to him.

When he could safely pull his head away, he looked into her eyes, seeing the truth there as plain as the freckles on her nose. "I don't deserve you," he frowned, bewildered. "But I hope you don't ever realize it."

"Yes you do, silly man," she chided, right before she kissed him full on the mouth. He groaned at the feel of her warm, soft lips moving sweetly against his own. It was the tenderest kiss he'd ever had, born of innocence and longing, seductive in its simplicity. It lasted an eternity and not nearly long enough. When they parted, he felt her gentle exhalations as warm, sweet puffs of air against his parted lips. He was becoming delirious with want. They had to stop now, before he lost his resolve.

He pulled away first, reluctantly releasing his grasp. He reached up and untangled her arms from around his neck, holding her hands between them. "Enough, now. There will be a time for this later, but there are many obstacles we will have to overcome in the meantime." He kissed her hands. "Up to bed with you. I'll see you in the morning."

Hermione tossed and turned agitatedly, unable to put the last twenty minutes out of her head. The wild swing of emotions throughout the last two days, finally ending on the highest possible peak, left her teetering on the edge. How did he expect her to be able to sleep now?

She remembered the feel of his strong, wiry frame enveloping her, pressing intimately, sensuously against her smaller, softer body. She hoped, prayed, that she would forever have that; to be held, protected and cherished by that guarded, sensitive man. She had known that the reserved, acerbic facade hid the passionate, caring man she was falling for, but the depth, the intensity of his ardor surprised and elated her. The admiration she had felt for him while his student, the affection she held for him as her friend, paled in comparison to the profound yearning she was now experiencing. This was no adolescent crush, and certainly didn't begin to compare to the juvenile attraction she had felt for Ron in her fifth year. This was much more powerful.

Exhaustion finally took her into Morpheus' arms sometime well after one o'clock in the morning.

The apprehensive awareness of each other was nearly tangible the next morning as they faced one another over the breakfast table. His embarrassment over the events of the previous day was effectively driving a wedge between them that Hermione was growing determined to obliterate as she sat there stealing glances at him.

He flinched as she rose to take her oatmeal bowl to the sink.

_I am not going to let you do this_, she thought. She walked up behind him, slipping her arms around his neck, and nibbled the exposed shell of his ear. "So, tell me, what are these obstacles you were referring to last night?" she whispered. She felt him tense when she first touched him, but he gradually relaxed as she peppered his neck and jaw with kisses.

He turned slightly in his chair, snaking his arm around her to pull her into his lap. "Cease and desist, woman!" he warned, pinning her arms to her side. "Now, the hurdles include, but are not restricted to**,** my parents, your parents, the entire wizarding world, the obligations you hold for your family's name, my potential position at Hogwarts, Minerva, your friends; need I go on?"

Hermione hung her head. "No," she admitted. "But we're not going backward," she insisted. "I don't care what anyone thinks. Harry already knows how I feel. My parents have effectively cut me from their lives. As for my obligations, I can ultimately decide to decline the commitments altogether if I choose. It's not as if I need any more money. I don't have to remain tethered to the Muggle world. It's very stressful, straddling the needs of my family and the expectations of the wizarding world. I'm not sure I wish to do so." She paused for a moment, thinking. She'd managed to wriggle one arm free, and had started playing with the ends of his hair in a distracted manner. Finally, she continued.

"I cannot speak of your considerations, however. You have to decide if what we have is worthwhile to you. I won't force you, even though I would dearly love to," she admitted with a wry smile. "I will tell you, though, that the spring season is upon us and I have received the first invitations to social events I am expected to attend. I'm not bringing this up in order to inspire jealousy or ire. I'm only making you aware that once my name and face grace the society pages, it will be much harder to extricate myself from their circle. Also, the wizards who have a foot in the Muggle world will become aware of my wealth and will inevitably spread the story to our world." She traced his eyebrow, cheek, hairline and nose with her fingertips as she spoke, finally cupping his jaw while dragging her thumb across his lower lip. When she finished speaking, she placed a chaste kiss at the corner of his mouth and got up from his lap, leaving him to think over what she'd said.

Resigned, Severus decided to approach Minerva first. She was his only close friend, besides Hermione, and her opinion mattered. He found Hermione at the computer as he prepared to leave.

"I'll be out for a little while. Contact me through the enchanted galleon if there is any word," he said, donning his cloak. Hermione nodded, wondering what he was up to, but not daring to question him.

He let himself in at the gates of Hogwarts, striding across the broad expanse of lawn. A cloudy sky threatened rain, the moisture in the air making the winter gusts feel that much more crisp. Hagrid was tending an injured Thestral at the side of his hut. He shouted a cheerful greeting to Severus as the dark man nodded in acknowledgment as he passed.

Minerva wasn't waiting for him this time when he came into the Entrance Hall, but a timid house-elf directed him to her office. The password hadn't changed from two days ago, so he mounted the revolving stairs without delay.

"Back so soon, Severus?" she greeted him as he opened the door. "I'm sorry I didn't meet you downstairs, but as you can see, I'm elbow deep in paperwork at the moment."

Severus felt a pang of guilt, knowing that she was overworked and would love for him to return and relieve her of the position. "Where's Filius? He should be helping you with this," he grumbled.

Minerva chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, I've given him loads to do, I assure you. Now, tell me what really brings you," she prodded, setting her quill aside. "Or are you here to see Albus again?"

Severus' eyes flicked to the portrait. "No, I wanted to speak to you, Minerva. Do you have a few moments for a private conversation?" he asked while pointedly ignoring the curious stares of the portraits that surrounded the room.

Her dear friend obviously needed her advice, and Minerva, Gryffindor that she was, was not one to put her own needs above those of her friends. "Of course I do," she agreed, standing up from her desk. "Let's have tea in my parlor," she offered, leading him up the spiral staircase at the side of the room.

Once tea was poured and the house-elf had gone, Minerva got straight to the point. "Now, what has you so agitated this morning?"

Confronted with Minerva's compassion, he was suddenly unsure this was the right decision after all. The feisty Scotswoman was fiercely protective of her cubs, and Hermione had been especially favored by her for many years now. But the remembered passion of last night and this morning spurred him on in spite of his misgivings.

"I am an old fool," he began. "I've allowed myself to fall for the charms of your favorite cub, and I don't know what I should do about it."

Minerva didn't react at first, ostensibly working out what he was saying. "I see. Does Hermione know of your feelings for her?"

He nodded, unable to meet her eyes. He found himself slouching deeper into the overstuffed chair and forced himself to sit up.

"And what does she have to say in the matter?" she asked gently.

"She wants to pursue this... affection to it's conclusion, wherever it leads. I tried to leave yesterday when I realized the depth of her regard for me, but she begged me not to," he admitted, flushing. "I'm only human, for Merlin's sake! How am I to resist her when she plies me with her kindness and generosity? What if she decides I'm not worth the bother, that I'm too vile and... and damaged, too old?" he finished in a strangled, pitiful voice.

"It's a chance everyone takes in love, Severus. You cannot know in advance what's going to happen. As for your age, you're talking to the right person. You know of my relationship with Albus; I'm fifty years his junior," she smiled fondly at the memories. "If your concerns are more in the line of Hermione's maturity, well, I've always felt she came here as a first year more mature than most of the students in all the forms combined."

He stared into his tea cup, considering what Minerva had said. Grimacing, he admitted, "It's not her maturity that concerns me. She can handle her own emotions relatively well, but can she handle mine? You know how volatile I can be. What if I say the first thing that comes to mind and destroy everything with my capricious temper?"

"Mmm, yes. I can see where that could be a problem," she said. "The best advice I can give you is when you feel yourself getting angry, Apparate away, leave her vicinity until you calm down and can discuss the situation rationally. But don't forget: Hermione is not blind to your faults. She knows your temper full well. And she is a Gryffindor, she can face it and withstand it." She nodded knowingly, as though to punctuate her words.

"I am also concerned by the reaction of the public. I was her teacher. You know what they'll say," he argued feebly. "The last thing I want to do is bring Hogwarts' reputation into question."

Minerva snorted. "Since when do you care what people say? Hermione's been vilified in the press before, she knows how to handle herself. It won't be any worse than what I went through in the 1940's when I seduced Albus. I was eighteen, he was sixty-eight. I had only just graduated. At least you haven't taught Hermione for a few years."

"But I was a Death Eater, hated by my students and most of the staff. Not to mention I killed Albus. There's hardly a comparison!" he retorted hotly.

She sighed. "So what are you going to do, then? Let this chance at happiness pass by? Do you intend to punish yourself for youthful mistakes for the rest of your life? Severus," she explained patiently, "the only reason to live is to love and be loved in return, otherwise you're only existing. Let her love you. You won't be sorry," she declared, patting his hand. She recognized his discomfort at discussing his gentler feelings.

"And now a change of subject, if you please. Have you thought about coming back here? I suspect Hermione would come, too, if you do."

"I have given it some thought, yes. I'm not sure it would be in my best interests right now, though. With the uncertainty regarding my parents, and now Hermione, I'm just not willing to commit to the responsibility it entails at this time," he answered. "I'm sorry, Minerva."

"Oh, don't worry yourself. I've got enough left in these old bones for another few years. Maybe you'll be ready by then. Hermione would make a great Deputy Head, you know. Great organizational skills, that one," she chuckled, reminiscing.

Severus couldn't help but smirk. Hermione would be a smart choice in this office. Maybe someday.

"I was sorry to lose her for seventh year. She would probably have gotten the Head Girl position in other circumstances," Minerva went on. "I'm so glad she went ahead and took her NEWT exams. If I recall correctly she got Outstandings in" –

Just then, Severus' galleon heated in his pocket. He sat up quickly, pulling the coin out to read it.

_Meet Harry at Leaky C _it read.

"Excuse me, Minerva. I've got to leave. May I use your Floo?" Severus broke in.

"Of course you may. Is everything all right?" she asked, alarmed by his abrupt interruption.

"I believe someone's spotted my father," he said, bussing her cheek as he made to leave.

"Good heavens! Well, good luck!" she called to him as he descended the winding stairs.

He stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, looking for Harry amid the patrons. Brushing distractedly at the soot and Floo powder on his robes, he headed over immediately to Harry's booth near the back.

"Potter," Severus greeted warily.

"Snape," Harry nodded. "Sit down. We're waiting for Hermione."

"What's happened?"

"I'm not sure. Hermione sent me a Patronus. Said she got a Floo-call from Tom," he nodded toward the bar, "and said I should come here and wait for her."

"How long has it been?" Severus asked, waving Tom over to them.

"I just got here a second ago. Maybe three or four minutes," Harry told him.

Tom came up to them looking worriedly at Severus. "Sent yeh a message, but yer girl musta got it instead. She came right over and I showed her the man. He was sittin' right over there," he pointed. "She followed him when he left. Musta bin 'bout ten minutes ago, now. Can I get yeh somethin' then?"

"Two butterbeers, please," Harry said, shooting a glance at Snape.

"Be right back," Tom said, with a tip of his head.

"Don't worry about her," Harry told him, once Tom had walked away. "She knows what she's doing. She probably knows Muggle London better than any of us."

Snape just nodded, glancing around the pub.

Tom arrived with the bottles**,** and Harry handed over some coins.

"You and Hermione are involved, I guess?" Harry questioned after Tom had moved out of hearing range. At Snape's glare, Harry sighed. "Look, I'm not accusing, or trying to be nosy or anything. It's just... Hermione's never really taken a serious interest in anybody before. If she likes you, then it's for real. She's not like other girls, jumping from one guy to the next, talking of big fancy weddings and make-up and babies. Those things don't interest her. She likes books, and talking about really deep stuff, things I don't understand, but I suspect you do. All I want is for her to be happy. If that means being with you, then I'm okay with that. I just thought you'd like to know that."

"And if we don't work out, then what?" Severus sneered. "I'll be the big, bad Death Eater scum that hurt your friend and become a target for your abuse again."

Harry grinned. "I think Hermione can fight her own battles, if it comes to that. But if you care for her the way you cared for my mother, I don't think you'll have any problems." Harry met his eye earnestly.

Severus nodded once and looked away, scanning the patrons again. He was uncomfortable being scrutinized by the boy, but somewhere in his chest, a tight band was loosening.

"Hermione's back," Harry alerted him, looking over Severus' shoulder. "Must have Apparated into Diagon Alley."

Severus turned to see her coming up to them with a smile on her face. Severus stood and let her into the booth on his side.

"Okay, I found where he's staying. It's about seven blocks from here," she explained, facing Severus. "I asked Harry to come because he's easily identified. Your father's been reading the papers for the past six months, so he's bound to recognize him, and with his Auror robes, he won't be spooked when we approach him."

Severus nodded. "It's a reasonable assumption," he agreed. "Potter, do you think you can be non-threatening?" he asked with a smirk.

Harry barked out a laugh. "I'll do my best."

"Shouldn't we fill him in a little, Severus? He should know something of what we're up against, at least," Hermione asked, resting her hand gently on his wrist. Severus sighed, but could see her point.

"I ran my father off right after I joined the Death Eaters. My mother was, still is actually, in Azkaban, and I wrongfully blamed him for it. I haven't seen him since, and my mother's being released on Friday."

Harry's eyes widened. "Wow, that's really awful. You get the prize in the drama category, Snape. And here I thought my life was tragic."

"Not helpful, Harry," Hermione warned.

"Sorry," Harry apologized.

Hermione took Severus' hand, forcing him to look at her. "Are you ready to do this now?"

"I don't think I could wait, now that we know where he is," he answered truthfully.

They made their way out to Diagon Alley's Apparition point, Hermione grasping both their arms tightly as she stood between them.

"Don't worry," Harry said, winking at him, "she's done this hundreds of times with me and Ron."

They disappeared without a sound, instantly transported to the shaded park across the street from a large rooming house. She led them up to the second floor, glancing at Severus to verify he was ready, and knocked. She sent Severus to wait down the hall and pulled Harry in front of the door with her.

A pleasant looking older man opened the door a moment later, dressed in tan corduroys, a long-sleeved, buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up**,** and holding a dish towel.

"Yes?" he asked genially, only noticing Harry's Auror robe a second later. He frowned, looking closer. "Say, aren't you Harry Potter?" He glanced over at her next. "And you're Her-mee-own Granger," he said in a voice full of wonder. Harry couldn't contain his snort of laughter.

"Yes, that's right," Hermione said, blushing a little while standing on Harry's foot. "But it's pronounced Her-MY-owe-nee, actually. Could we come in for a minute?"

"Certainly," Mr. Snape said, standing to the side and ushering them into the sparsely furnished room. "Well, this is a surprise. I never expected to be greeted by the likes of you lot," he grinned. "Can I offer you something? Some tea perhaps?"

"Oh, no, that's quite all right," Harry said.

"Actually, Mr. Snape, we're sort of here on behalf of a friend. A dear friend and comrade, if you will," Hermione smiled weakly, glancing at Harry for support.

"Yeah, a real hero, too," Harry added.

"Really? Who's that, then?" Mr. Snape asked.

"Your son, Severus," Hermione divulged with a tremulous smile. "He's been trying to find you for many years now. He wanted to apologize for the things he said, but was afraid you wouldn't see him."

Tobias paled and collapsed onto the battered sofa. "My boy? Is he here in London? Where is he?" he asked, trembling.

"He's waiting right outside," Harry answered. "He didn't want to scare you, so he asked us to talk to you first."

"Bring him in! Don't leave him out there worrying," Tobias pleaded, his shaking hands raised in supplication.

"Harry, go into the kitchen and put the kettle on, will you?" Hermione asked with a meaningful glance, tilting her head in the direction of the other room. Harry nodded and Hermione walked over to the door and opened it. "Severus? It's all right. Come on in," she called down the hall.

Severus paused right outside the door, taking a deep breath. Hermione reached out and took his hand, pulling him forward gently. "I'll be in the kitchen with Harry," she whispered.

She walked briskly across the room, but still managed to hear him choke out, "Dad?" before he fell to his knees, clutched the older man's legs and sobbed brokenly onto them, "I'm so sorry, Dad."

"Oh, my boy, I've missed you so," Tobias cried, smoothing Severus' hair.

Hermione shut the door, effectively cutting off the conversation. Harry turned and glanced at her.

"Everything all right?" he asked, rooting around in the cupboard for tea and cups.

"Yeah, I think it is," Hermione said. "Let's give them a few minutes, though. They've got loads to talk about."

When the tea had steeped, Hermione poked her head around the door. "Ready for tea?" she called cheerfully.

"Yes, please," she heard Severus reply.

Hermione carried the tray in, followed by Harry, who conjured a table and extra chairs for them to sit on as Hermione poured them each a cup.

"Severus told me Eileen gets out on Friday. I've been watching your wizard's paper for a while now. I knew it had to be soon," Tobias said.

"That's how we were finally able to locate you," Hermione put in. "We asked Tom at the Leaky Cauldron if he'd seen anyone, and that's when he told us you've been reading the _Prophet_ for the last six months or so."

"Shame about the old place, though. I hope Eileen likes it here," Tobias frowned, looking around the empty room.

"There's plenty of room at my house, Severus, if you think they'd be more comfortable," Hermione offered.

Severus knew the only empty room was her parents' bedroom. He looked at her, incredulous. "If you're sure it's no trouble," he answered uncertainly.

"It's not, or I wouldn't have offered," Hermione said softly, gazing into his grateful eyes. She turned back to Tobias. "How soon will you be ready to move?"

He looked startled. "Severus?" he said, not even sure what he was asking.

"It's all right, Dad. I live there, too. It's a wonderful big house with a garden and a library, and a lab in the basement. Mum will love it there," Severus explained. "There's even a Lotus in the garage. You can teach me to drive it," he added, eyes crinkling with mirth.

Tobias smiled back fondly at his son. "Well, all right, then. How 'bout Wednesday? I'll need to pack up my stuff and settle up with the landlord, you know."

"Good, we'll bring the Volvo on Wednesday morning at nine o'clock," Hermione said, putting an end to the topic.

"So, how did you two meet Severus?"

"He tortured us in Potions class for five years, and Defense for another year," Harry said, giggling.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished.

"You're a teacher?" Tobias asked, turning proud eyes on his son.

Severus nodded. "_Was_ a teacher, for seventeen years."

"And Headmaster," Harry added, relishing the opportunity for making Severus uncomfortable.

"Harry, you're not helping," Hermione warned him again.

"Really?" Tobias asked, stunned.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it later," Severus said, glaring at Harry**,** who was having some trouble containing his laughter.

"This is fun! Can I come along when you go to get Eileen?" Harry was practically guffawing now.

Hermione kicked him in the shin. "Ow!" Harry grumbled, rubbing his leg.

Severus snorted. "Serves you right. She did warn you."

_Please Review! I've noticed many people have this story saved in their favorites and/or in their story alerts, but hardly anyone is bothering to leave a review. The whole point of my posting this story is so that I can know how it is being received. Authors on this site work for readers' reviews. We don't get paid. If you're reading, the least you can do for an author is to leave a brief message so we know if you like what we're doing or not. Keep it in mind when the story you've been following all of a sudden stops getting updated. Authors get frustrated and discouraged at the lack of reviews. They take it as criticism, whether they should or not. Many will choose to move their work to a moderated site with readers who are more conscientious. Do the right thing – if you like someone's work, you should tell them so!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A.N.: Many thanks to all who have taken the time to review. It means the world to me! And as always, I owe scads of thanks to my marvelous beta, amylouise, for her unparalleled skills in fixing my errors. She's the best!_

Chapter 6: Preparations

After tea, Hermione pointed out that there was no reason Tobias couldn't come back to her house with them for the day. Harry had to return to the Ministry, so Severus asked him to inform Kingsley that everything was resolved**,** and the notice could be sent to the paper.

They Side-along Apparated Tobias home with them.

"Severus, why don't you show your father around while I start putting lunch together?" she suggested, doing her best to give them some privacy. She smiled to herself when she noticed their first stop was the garage.

She made a call to Mr. Gibson to inform him that Tobias had been located. She thanked him for his help and assured him his leads had been paramount in locating the older man. She hung up after promising him that she would most certainly not hesitate to call him should she have need of his services in the future.

Once the men were alone, Tobias had some questions for Severus.

"So, you're living here alone with that young girl?" he pressed. Severus nodded, flushing. "She seems nice. A bit pushy, though," Tobias opined, walking around the car to admire it from all angles.

Severus snorted. "That she is," he agreed. "But she cares about me, so I don't complain."

Tobias' eyebrow rose. "So blows the wind then, eh?" he chuckled. Severus didn't dispute it, so he continued. "She was your student. Tell me this didn't start at that school," he implored.

"No, of course not," Severus scoffed, remembering the annoying brat that tormented him. "We've only just discovered a mutual attraction. I'm not even sure at this point if anything will ever come of it."

"Just how old is she, son?" Tobias asked, leaning in the car door to examine the interior.

"Not yet twenty," Severus admitted. "I know you think I've had my head turned by a bit of fluff, but I'll ask you to reserve judgment until you've gotten to know her first."

"All right, I'll trust that you know what you're doing. You'll have a job of it explaining it to your mother, though," he added, grinning. "Got the keys, then?"

Severus held them up, jingling them and tossed them over. "Let's take her out, shall we?"

A quick spin around the neighborhood, a brief tour of the house, and they rejoined Hermione in the kitchen.

"It's a really fine place you have here, Miss Granger," Tobias commented. "I wonder how you manage it by yourself."

Severus only just succeeded in holding back an admonishment, instead glaring at his father in reproof.

Hermione chuckled. "It's fine, Severus. He'll find out sooner or later, anyway." She turned to Mr. Snape. "I've inherited money. Quite a bit, actually. This was my parents' house, but they moved to Australia and sold it to me."

"Australia?" he said, astonished. "Why'd they move so far away?"

"Another long story," Severus broke in, meeting Hermione's troubled eyes. "It's probably best if we save the tales for when Mum's here so we only have to tell it once," he explained. "The war caused a lot of pain, and as much as you deserve to hear it, it's still very difficult for us to talk about," he admitted, clearing his throat.

Tobias nodded in understanding. "I see. You were both involved in that war, I take it."

"Yes, along with dozens and dozens of other people."

"I'd read some articles in your paper about it. I reckoned Harry Potter and Hermione here were involved in it, but I hadn't come across anything with your name," Tobias said, frowning.

"That's because the editors of the paper are hypocrites," Hermione interjected hotly. "Severus was more involved in ending the war than we were, but his methods were considered unsavory, so he's not granted the respect he's due."

"Hermione, don't," Severus pleaded.

"Why?" she contested. "It's true!" She turned to Tobias. "Severus was our spy in Voldemort's camp. Without his help, things would have been so much worse. He risked his life many times for us, and he nearly died at the end," she blurted, tearing up. "Your father needs to know, Severus. He deserves to know all you did to make things right." Hermione was fighting hard not to break down.

Severus got up and went to her, pulling her up into his arms. "This is precisely why I didn't want to discuss this now, silly girl," he chided quietly as he stroked her back. Hermione was trembling as she drew in calming breaths, but she nodded her acknowledgment. "Let's finish our lunch before it gets cold," Severus directed, setting her away from him as he felt her calming, then helping her back to her seat.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, contrite. "I shouldn't have brought it up now. Severus is right." She poked at her food dejectedly.

Severus changed the subject, steering the conversation to Tobias' whereabouts the last two decades, and Hermione's mind was diverted from her troubled thoughts once again.

As it turned out, Tobias wasn't deliberately trying to hide. He'd moved in with one of their former neighbors who had found work in another town. He paid him room and board, so there was really no record of him living anywhere merely because all the utilities were listed under the other man's name.

He admitted to visiting the Leaky Cauldron from time to time, hoping to see Severus or someone he knew, but the stories in the _Daily Prophet_ scared him enough that he avoided contact as much as he could bear. Having no way to reach Severus or Eileen wore him down after some time, though, so he resolved to stay away until Eileen's release was imminent.

Hermione sensed the discussion was going to get very emotional for Severus, so she excused herself from the room. She took her new book down to the entertainment room so she wouldn't be tempted to eavesdrop. She'd read halfway through the thick tome before she decided she needed to do something, anything, to get her mind off the two men upstairs.

"Severus?" she called from the sitting room. "I'm going to visit Molly for a couple of hours, all right?"

Severus appeared at the door to the kitchen. He looked a little shell-shocked, but otherwise fine. "I appreciate you giving me some time," he acknowledged. "I'll contact you by galleon when we've finished."

Hermione nodded, "That's fine. I shouldn't have put off visiting Molly as long as I have, anyway. I'm surprised she hasn't shown up here, actually," she admitted, grinning. Deliberating only a moment, she suddenly crossed the room to him, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. "Bye," she whispered, turning on the spot and disappearing.

Molly greeted her with her usual enthusiastic motherly hug, bustling Hermione to the table for tea and biscuits.

"So, Ron tells me Severus Snape is living with you?" Molly asked curiously. Hermione could sense the concern the woman was trying to mask.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, flushing a little. "He's been very conscientious and really good company."

Molly bit her lip, obviously working out something she wanted to say. "Are you sure it's a good idea to have a man so much older living with you? I mean, I trust Severus, you know I do, but he is... a man of the world, I guess you could say."

Hermione bristled just a tiny bit. She knew Molly only wanted to protect her, after all. "I understand what you're trying to say, but Severus has become very dear to me," she said, watching Molly flinch, "and I wanted to talk to you, woman to woman, about what's happening between us."

"Well, of course, dear. You can talk to me about anything," she said a little too brightly. Hermione began to think talking to Molly maybe wasn't the best idea, but then Molly grinned mischievously. "I guess this means he actually does have a heart, then?" she whispered conspiratorially.

Hermione snorted, then sobered. "Yes, he does. I know he's prickly and defensive around most everybody, but he's different when he's alone with me. He's funny and helpful, and so smart! We get into the most interesting conversations. I haven't had that with anybody since Remus died," Hermione explained. "I thought he might be dismissive and condescending, but he hasn't been. He treats me like my opinions matter. It's been really wonderful."

"I just hope you don't get hurt, either of you. After everything he's been through, is he even ready for a relationship?"

"Well, it hasn't gone that far, just yet," Hermione clarified. "Our feelings only came to light last night, and we're not going to rush into anything. If our connection continues to develop as I hope it will, then it'll be time. I'm cautiously optimistic. If nothing comes of it, then we intend to remain close friends at the very least."

Molly smiled joyously. "I'm happy for you, dear. I know Ron cared about you, but I can see you're happier now. I'm afraid my youngest son has some wild oats to sow, and he's not in any hurry to grow up," she frowned briefly. "I really hoped to have you as a daughter-in-law someday, but you'll always be family to us**,** no matter what." She reached across the corner of the table, pulling Hermione into another suffocating hug.

"You'll have to bring him over for dinner one day soon," she said, relinquishing her hold.

"It may be some time until I can manage that. Severus' parents will be staying with us for the time being," Hermione said apologetically. "We've only just found his father today, and his mother's being released from Azkaban on Friday."

"Oh dear!" Molly exclaimed. "I had no idea Severus' parents were still living."

So Hermione spent the next half hour explaining the situation, asking for Molly's discretion in keeping Severus' personal life from leaking to the press. "He's been hurt so much by the scorn of the wizarding world. It would mean so much to him – and me – if we could count on you and Arthur to stand by him if this comes out."

"Of course we will! Don't ever doubt it. I think it's just disgraceful the way the _Prophet_ has treated him the last couple of years," Molly tutted. "I know how hard it is to have a wayward son. I thank the heavens for bringing Percy back to us. I can just imagine how Severus and his father are feeling."

Their conversation moved along, covering Harry and Ron's Auror training, Ginny's NEWTs, George's new product line, and the latest news from Bill and Charlie. Percy came in when he got off work and joined their discussion.

"I really think you ought to come to work at the Ministry, Hermione," he opined. "With your NEWT scores, every department would be clamoring to get you."

"Thank you, Percy, but I'm not inclined to apply just now. I've got some things I need to work out first before I consider taking on a full-time career."

"Well, all right," he conceded, "but come see me when you're ready. I'll see that you get placed where you'll get the most recognition."

"Are you still seeing Penny?" Hermione asked in a deliberate move to change the subject.

"Why yes, I am, actually. She's having dinner with her aunt this evening, so I came to visit Mum tonight," he explained, smiling fondly at Molly.

"They've been talking of marriage," Molly gushed, beaming. "She's such a lovely girl."

Hermione's coin turned warm and she pulled it out to read _Taking Dad back_. Hermione tapped it with her wand. _Meet you at home_, she responded.

Molly and Percy were watching her curiously. "I'm sorry, but I've got to head home now. It's been lovely seeing you both again," she said, smiling cheerfully. "Molly, I'll be in touch soon." Turning to Percy she said, "Best of luck in your marriage plans, Percy. Tell Penny I said hello."

Molly walked with her out to the edge of the property. "Take care of yourself, dear. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you, Molly. I'm glad I have you to talk to," Hermione said, waving as she Apparated away.

Severus was seated on the sofa with a snifter of brandy when she arrived. Supposing he probably needed to unwind a bit from the stress of the day, she squeezed his shoulder as she passed and left him in peace while she went into the kitchen to prepare supper. She was pleased to discover Severus had already started it. There were chicken breasts roasting in the oven, and she only then realized she could smell the aroma in the air; so deep was she in her own musings that she'd overlooked it at first.

She set to peeling some potatoes, her mind wandering over the day's happenings. She hoped the turmoil she'd detected in Severus would diminish as he came to terms with his reunions over the next few days. She wouldn't press him about his visit with his father, she decided. If he wanted to talk about it she would be supportive and understanding, but she didn't expect him to want to discuss it. Not yet, anyway. She'd had enough dealings with Harry over the years to recognize when someone wanted to be left to their own thoughts.

When she called him in to eat, she steered the conversation to benign topics, carefully avoiding anything that could lead to discussions of his parents. He was more than willing to follow her lead, since he was still feeling raw and exposed from the events of the day.

The evening finally drew to a close, forcing Severus to touch briefly on his plans for the following day.

"I invited my father to come again tomorrow afternoon. I hope that's all right," he said, catching her eyes.

"Of course. I can find things to do, if you need more time with him. Actually, I need to start shopping for a wardrobe for my big entrance," she pointed out. "Somehow, I don't think jumpers and blue jeans are quite appropriate for spring formals."

"No, I don't suppose that would suffice." Severus gave her a hug and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, Hermione." He turned away and headed up the stairs.

When his mood was still subdued at breakfast Wednesday morning, Hermione sought desperately for a topic to improve his spirits.

"I've been thinking," she said, causing him to snort, "You're mother gets out in four days. I'd like to see that she's decently attired when she leaves that place, but I don't know her sizes to purchase robes and shoes for her."

Severus stared at his breakfast for several minutes, causing Hermione to think he was ignoring her. She was about to try another tactic when he finally answered.

"My mother is taller than you. Thin, but not skinny, however I don't know what twenty years in Azkaban may have done to her," he said. "Irma Pince would be an adequate frame of reference. They are of similar size and frame. I'm afraid I don't know her shoe size. Perhaps my father will know."

"Well, then, I'll get started on finding her some robes and worry about the shoes later. If all else fails I can always loan her some of mine with a size adjustment charm until we can get her outfitted," she decided. A glance in his direction confirmed his mood hadn't improved; if anything it seemed to be even darker.

"Have I said something wrong?"

"No," Severus sighed. "I'm just not comfortable accepting all this charity," he admitted. "You've taken us all into your home without a thought to how it makes us feel."

Properly chagrined, Hermione nodded in understanding. "You're right. I'm sorry for letting my heart take over for my head. I've been jumping in without asking you first." She frowned, considering how she must have upset this inordinately proud man. "I promise I'll do better in the future," she apologized. "Although you have to admit, if I'd offered first you'd likely have turned it down. Besides, what good is having loads of money if you can't use it to help your friends?"

Scrutinizing her face, Severus could see she was speaking truthfully. "This... thing... that's happening between us...," he began uncertainly, "I don't want your generosity becoming a factor in how our relationship develops." He felt uneasy accepting the way Hermione was providing for his every need. He only hoped she could understand his feelings. "People don't, as a rule, give anything to me without expecting something in return. I don't want either of us to feel like my affection was bought."

Hermione blinked rapidly, hurt, but trying not to show it. She couldn't prevent her flushed cheeks, though, so she turned her face away, taking deep calming breaths. When she felt steadier, she faced him again. "I would never try to buy you, Severus. I _am_ sorry I've put you in this situation, though."

After a moment, she continued. "If I'd been a waitress working for tips, with a small flat in Muggle London, would you have felt differently? Because I can honestly say, I wouldn't have. I still would've helped you. If all I had was a couch and tinned soup, I still would've given it to you. I would've taught you how to use the computer at the public library if I didn't have my own. The only real differences are being able to hire an investigator and having the room to take your parents in. Does it make it better or worse, my having money to support us?" she asked, genuinely wanting his view.

"I don't know," he answered, giving the question due consideration. "If you were in such a situation, and I knew about it, I might not have approached you. But it was your unusual problem-solving ability and your familiarity with Muggles that brought me to you, so it mightn't have made a difference after all," he admitted with a shrug. "I never imagined I'd be made so welcome as I have. I am very grateful."

"You're quite welcome," Hermione said, smiling. "But I want you to know, I'd have done nothing different if it had been anyone else – it's in my nature. My feelings for you have nothing to do with my actions. Well... except for the part where I kissed you; I wouldn't have done that with someone else," she grinned cheekily

Severus cleared his throat, flushing. "Minx," he sneered, which caused Hermione to chuckle, but then she turned serious.

"Oh! I've been meaning to tell you. I discovered something at the Ministry that could be important. It appears your mother has inherited something. I don't know what, but she should ask about it as soon as she is released. All the important information was blurred out for privacy."

Thinking it over, Severus concluded it was favorable for his mother to have a respectable wardrobe to visit the Ministry, and admitted as much to Hermione. He was not vain, but neither did he desire his mother to suffer disdain and humiliation visiting the Ministry in twenty-year-old clothing.

Hermione Apparated to Madam Malkin's in Diagon Alley. Luckily, being a Tuesday morning, the store was nearly empty. She was greeted immediately by the overly solicitous proprietor.

"Miss Granger! How delightful to see you!" Madam Malkin gushed. "How may I be of service today?" Her calculating eye scanned Hermione from head to foot, mentally noting the physical changes since she'd visited at the beginning of her sixth year.

"I'm not actually here for me," Hermione started, watching as the woman's expression changed from eager to disappointed. "A friend of mine has been away and has need of an updated wardrobe. I wondered if maybe you had Irma Pince's measurements on file? I'm told the lady in question has very similar sizes."

Madam Malkin's demeanor regained its enthusiasm. "Of course! Just let me go look it up," she excused herself, pushing Hermione into a chair. Hermione looked around at the floating robes as they rotated in the air above the racks. The styles had changed a bit from when she'd last shopped here. The new spring colors were being showcased; some of the patterns in vogue were rather repulsive in Hermione's opinion. She began to wonder if she'd find anything suitable. She couldn't imagine Severus' mother wearing anything in fuchsia and lime.

"Here we are!" Madam Malkin bustled back over to her. "Now, what do you know of her tastes?"

"Well, I don't actually know her myself, but I do know her son. I would go with somber and understated, but elegant. Definitely nothing garish or outlandish. The less frills and embellishments the better. Muted colors, probably more like navy, forest green, gray, dark russet, burgundy and black. And they'd need to be comfortable and take adjustments easily," Hermione said. "Does that give you enough to work with?"

Madam Malkin's quick-quotes quill was busily taking notes, Hermione's choices being effectively recorded. The lady herself nodded, frowning. "I supposed you'll need robes that will hide a poor fit? I'm sure I have plenty of things that will work. Anything that doesn't suit, you just have her come to me and I'll exchange it for something she likes better."

She waved her wand, and several floating robes changed position, the bright, flowery selections moving to the back while more refined, tasteful garments took their places around Hermione.

"Lovely," Hermione murmured. "That gray one there, can you substitute the wide lace for a satin piping in black?" She questioned.

"Lilah!" Madam Malkin called out. "Please come out front, dear." A girl Hermione recognized from her year came hurriedly out of the back room. "Have you two met, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded, "Hufflepuff, right?" she smiled. "You were a friend of Hannah's, I think." The girl nodded. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your last name," she prompted.

"Moon," she girl answered, shaking Hermione's hand cordially.

"Lilah, would you see if we have this robe in this size," Madam Malkin said, handing over Irma Pince's measurements, "and if so, remove the lace and replace it with black satin piping."

"Yes, ma'am," Lilah answered, returning to the back of the shop.

"Any others catch your eye?" Madam Malkin prompted Hermione. "If you see a design you like, we can have it ready in another color or fabric in a day's time. Lilah's been a godsend in the last year," she admitted. "Such a way with fabrics and drape and design! I don't know what I did without her."

"Actually, the sapphire blue one is very nice, but not very warm for this time of year. Could you lengthen the sleeves a bit and use a wool or some other warmer cloth?"

Madam Malkin wrote down Hermione's specifications for Lilah. "Consider it done. I have some winter clearance items I just put away for the spring season designs. Give me a moment and I'll go get them. Perhaps there's something there that will interest you." She got up and bustled to the back.

Hermione made a mental note to ask about undergarments and cloaks. She got up and walked around the shop, perusing the light-weight cloaks hanging near the back. Lilah came through the swinging door, levitating the gray robes before her.

"Is this more to your liking, Miss Granger?" she asked, waving her wand to rotate the garment for a proper view.

Hermione snorted, "Hermione, please!" she insisted. "I don't care for such formality. May I call you Lilah?" she asked, reaching out to touch the newly added piping.

"Of course," Lilah agreed with a shy smile. Conspiratorially, she added under her breath, "I suggested satin edging when we first came up with this design, but she wouldn't hear of it then. She's getting better," she allowed. "Not everyone wants to dress like Lavender Brown."

"It's much more sophisticated like this," Hermione agreed. "I'd be more inclined to wear it myself this way."

"There you are, Miss Granger!" Madam Malkin clucked, herding Hermione back to the front of the shop. "I've a few selections I thought you might like." She waved her wand, lifting the garments into the air, releasing the wrinkles they'd acquired from being packed away.

Hermione made a few more choices, then brought up the need for suitable undergarments and a cloak. She finished her shopping by noon(,) and invited Lilah to lunch.

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop, directly across the street, had started serving soup and sandwiches in the colder months to attract customers back after the war and their sudden mysterious closing, and since Lilah only had a half hour lunch, they chose to eat there.

They settled down with their bowls of soup and crusty bread at a remote table. Most of the patrons had clustered near the large fireplace for the added warmth, so they were mostly left in peace.

"Have you seen many of our old classmates?" Hermione asked.

"Not many, no," Lilah shook her head. "But it's not unusual in the colder months. As soon as it warms up, business will pick up." She cocked her head, inquisitively. "I thought you would've been engaged to Ron Weasley by now."

Hermione sighed. "No, we're better off as friends. He's enjoying his notoriety too much, jumping from one girl to another, staying out all night in the pubs. It's just not my thing," she shrugged, then smiled. "I got an engagement notice from Neville and Hannah, though. I'm so happy for them!"

Lilah nodded, grinning. "I had to convince Neville to ask her. He didn't think she'd accept! Can you believe it?" she giggled. "I don't know anybody more suited than them." She sighed, wistfully. "I hope I meet someone like that someday."

"So, have you always been into clothing design? Madam Malkin seems really impressed with your work," Hermione said, changing the subject.

Lilah nodded. "Yeah, my younger sister and I have been drawing designs since we were little. We used to design clothes for our dolls, eventually making most of our own clothes. It didn't make our parents very happy, though."

"Why? I don't understand," Hermione asked, baffled by the comment.

"It's not fitting or proper for a pure blood witch to demean herself with menial work, according to them. It's a good thing we ignored them, though. We've been supporting them since the war. Voldemort had cleaned out most of my family's vault by the time he was brought down," Lilah revealed. Seeing Hermione's reaction, she explained, "We weren't on his side, but enough pressure was put on my father that it was in our best interests to comply for our own safety. We had to hide my sister from Voldemort, so handing over money kept him away from us."

"Why would you have to hide your sister?"

"She's a Squib. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort started eliminating Squibs along with Muggles, Muggle-borns and people of mixed magical heritage, like Hagrid and Professor Flitwick." Hermione had never really considered what might happen to the Squibs and the others, but what Lilah was saying made sense. "That's why Hagrid went to hide in the mountains with Grawp during seventh year. There were rumors around the school that the Carrows were gathering information about everyone's heritage on Voldemort's orders. The house-elves hid Mr. Filch in the kitchens when things got really bad."

"I had no idea," Hermione said in a subdued voice. "I'm sorry, I must seem callous to you. I only thought of the Muggle-borns and werewolves being in danger, but I see now how much more nefarious the situation actually was."

Lilah chuckled. "It's okay. It's not like you didn't have other things to worry about at the time. I'm just glad you and your friends were able to rid the world of him. Neville and the rest of them kept the Carrows' and Snape's focus off the rest of the students."

"Severus Snape was on our side," Hermione corrected gently. "He was secretly helping Neville and us the whole time."

"Seriously? I read that in the papers, but I didn't really believe it. I just figured he slithered out of prosecution, like the Malfoys," she said bitterly.

"I understand your position," Hermione commiserated, "but the Malfoys were in much the same boat you were, except for Lucius having taken the Mark twenty years ago. I know at the end they had turned against Voldemort. In fact, Narcissa Malfoy saved Harry's life. They didn't raise a wand against us the whole final battle. Draco even tried to spare us when we were captured by snatchers that spring," Hermione defended. "Draco faced the worst kind of dilemma when he was ordered by Voldemort to kill Professor Dumbledore; Voldemort would have killed his parents if he'd refused. As it was, they were all tortured repeatedly for their failures."

"But Snape really did kill Dumbledore," Lilah pointed out.

"Yes, because Dumbledore ordered him to do it to spare Draco's soul. They had it planned for months in advance, and I know it tore Severus up to be forced to do it."

Lilah directed a sharp glance at Hermione at such familiarity. "Severus?"

Hermione blushed, realizing the slip. "Yes. He's my friend. I'm hoping he'll be more than that soon. He lives with me – he and his parents, since their neighborhood has been reclaimed by the Muggle government."

Astonished, Lilah's mouth formed a perfect _O, _while she processed the information. Finally, she regained her senses. "Your parents don't mind?"

"My parents have cut me out of their lives for tampering with their memories and moving them out of the country to protect them from Death Eaters during the war. After the war was over, and the remaining Death Eaters were imprisoned, I went to fetch them and return their memories. They refused to return to England, selling me their home here instead." It was the first time Hermione had been able to relate the story without breaking down.

Lilah didn't say anything, just nodded her head once in acknowledgment, realizing even the Golden Trio had sustained horrible losses in the war. They finished their lunch, commenting on the weather, the changes to Diagon Alley, and news of their friends as the half hour drew to a close.

As Hermione walked her back to work, Lilah commented, finally, on the revelation of Hermione's feelings for Snape. "I always thought Snape smelled really good," she said with a sly glance at Hermione.

Hermione burst out laughing. "Even better close up!" she admitted. Before they entered the shop, Hermione pulled Lilah back. "Listen, do you think we could meet one evening with your sister to design a Muggle wardrobe for me? I have the money to pay, but I don't really want to shop in the Muggle stores."

"Absolutely! My sister works for a seamstress in London, but doesn't get to design anything there. It's mostly alterations and some customizing of patterns the seamstress offers. I know she's bored to death working there. What night would work for you?"

"I'm very flexible. Any night but Friday this week, and any time at all next week. Send me an owl when you've worked something out with her, all right?" Hermione offered.

Madam Malkin had totaled Hermione's purchases by the time they returned from lunch, and Hermione signed the receipt to authorize payment from her Gringott's account. Arrangements were made to deliver the goods to Hermione's home when the order was filled. She left the shop feeling like she'd accomplished a few things toward her goals, and decided to window shop a little while to give Severus as much time with his father as she could.

She stopped by Gringott's to transfer some Muggle money from her bank to her Gringott's vault. She accomplished this through her credit card, "purchasing" items from Gringott's, namely galleons. It was easier and more convenient than carrying English pounds to the wizarding bank to exchange, but did involve a sizable transaction fee. Hermione felt the security and convenience was worth the extra charges. Besides, it helped the economy to spread a little of her wealth around.

She bumped into Draco Malfoy, literally, as she exited the bank. "Oops! Pardon me," she apologized as she attempted to steady him.

Draco flushed, embarrassed at nearly having fallen down the steps. "Granger," he acknowledged, nodding curtly, and tried to pass.

"Wait, Draco," Hermione implored. He turned back toward her. "How are you? I meant to write — " she began, only to be cut off.

"Why?" Draco sneered. "What possible reason would one of the heroes of the wizarding world have to write to me?" he asked spitefully.

"No reason. Just to be friendly," she said. "I had hoped we could leave the past in the past. If you'd rather not..."

Draco looked around. "Is this a publicity stunt? Will there be an article in the _Prophet _tomorrow with an account of one of our heroes making nice with one of the down-trodden?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione retorted, offended. "Since when have you ever known me to seek out the media? Especially for propaganda. Have I been in the paper in the last few months?" she demanded.

Draco conceded. "Fine, what do you want?"

Hermione huffed impatiently. "I don't want anything! I just inquired about how you were doing, that's all. No ulterior motive here." Hermione sighed, "Look, let's start over, all right?"

Draco looked skeptical, but nodded. "What brings you to Diagon Alley, Granger?"

"Please call me Hermione," she offered. "I needed to pick up some new robes at Madam Malkin's and decided to transfer some Muggle money to Gringott's while I was here. You?"

Draco flushed, but admitted, "I have to take money from our account and go to the Ministry to make a payment on our fine from the war." He watched her face for a sign of pity or smug satisfaction but saw neither.

"Mind if I join you? I'm trying to stay away from my house for a few hours and I thought it might be fun to catch up for a bit," she said without guile.

Draco blinked. "Um...all right, I guess. Give me a few minutes, and I'll meet you over there at those benches at the Ice Cream Shop." Hermione nodded, waved and strolled off down the street to wait, leaving Draco behind shaking his head in confusion.

When Draco returned, Hermione stood up and came to meet him. "Are we going straight to the Ministry?"

"Might as well get it over with," he muttered. "I'll meet you in the Atrium," he said before Disapparating away.

Hermione waited a minute before leaving, figuring Draco didn't want to squash into the call box on street level with her. She found him waiting for her in front of the fountain, and they walked across the lobby toward the Welcome Witch together.

They handed over their wands to be registered, then made their way to Level Two, Magical Law Enforcement, Improper Use Of Magic Division, Ministry Fines Collection Office. The lift was occupied, so they didn't talk at all along the way. Draco went into the office alone while Hermione waited in the corridor. When he emerged, they returned to the lift and made their way out of the Ministry.

Meeting up on the street outside the call box, Hermione suggested they walk down the block to the playground.

"I'm wearing robes, Granger," Draco pointed out. "I can't just walk around Muggle London."

"It's Hermione," she reminded him, brandishing her wand and casting a Notice-Me-Not charm on him. "And now you can. Let's go." She pulled at his sleeve to get him moving.

"So, what have you been doing since Hogwarts?" she asked, taking the lead.

"Not much," he grumbled. "Mother's been trying to arrange dinner parties, but there aren't many families left who will still associate with us. I've been reading, studying Potions, Herbology and Art. Greg's in Azkaban for another year. Pansy won't speak to me since she feels I abandoned the cause. Actually, most of my former friends feel that way. And why in hell am I telling you this stuff?" he groused bitterly.

They had reached the playground while Draco talked, and Hermione had led them to the playground equipment.

Hermione smiled ruefully. "Because you need to talk to someone," she suggested. She reached out and snagged the chain of the swing, sitting gingerly on the rusty swingset to test its stability. She cast a fortifying spell on it, just in case. She waved Draco into the other swing.

"I suppose you're right. I'm tired of listening to my parents planning and plotting our rise to our former ranks in society. I just want to move on, you know?" he admitted. "What have you been up to?"

"Well, I studied and took my NEWTs after the war, kicked Harry and Ron out of my house, the barbarians," she said under her breath in a jovial tone, "then not much of anything until a few weeks ago when Professor Snape moved in," she disclosed nonchalantly, as though that kind of thing happened every day.

Draco looked like he swallowed his tongue. "Wh-what?" he stammered, shocked.

_Don't forget to review!_


	7. Chapter 7

_A.N.1: Everything you recognize belongs to Jo. No money is being made. I promise to put them back when I'm done._

_A.N.2: Sorry this chapter took so long. It made the passage across the world fourteen times before my beta amylouise and I were satisfied with it. If you enjoy it, it is all due to her insistence that I clear up certain plot holes. She's very diligent, and not the least bit afraid of me. Be sure to acknowledge her expertise in your review!_

Chapter 7: Entertaining

When Hermione filled him in on the demise of Spinner's End, Draco whistled quietly through his teeth. "Well, it seems you've finally managed to garner his attention," he teased, cautiously setting his seat to swinging. He appeared slightly unsettled on the Muggle playground equipment.

"Ha, ha, very funny," she retorted, giving his arm a push and making his swing wobble. He clutched tightly to the chains on his swing, as though he might fall off. Realizing he was only four inches off the ground, he relaxed again. Hermione didn't mention it, and instead started twisting her swing around and around

"I'd wondered why he hadn't been around lately," he mused. "Mother was concerned something dreadful had happened to him." He watched warily as she twisted the chains together as much as she could, squashing her hips in the saddle seat in the process. "What exactly are you doing?"

Hermione grinned. "Watch." She lifted her feet high up under her seat, letting the swing spin her around dizzily, her crazy hair flying around her head. "Whew!" She laughed. "I'd never realized how much that feels like taking the Floo network!" She watched as Draco tried it.

He did his best to suppress his smile once he'd come to a stop. "No soot to deal with, though," he smirked, smoothing his hair back into place.

Hermione set herself to swinging, higher and higher, working her arms and legs, reaching for the sky with her pointed toes. Draco started to follow her. "Wait a second. We can't both go in the same direction at the same time, or the swingset might tip over. Get swinging opposite of me," she instructed. Once she had reached the highest arc she could, she jumped off, landing lightly in the gravel. Draco tried it a swing and a half later, landing poorly and twisting his ankle.

"Ow!" he hissed, rubbing the injured appendage. Hermione waved her wand, repairing the strain and easing the discomfort. "Thanks. Say, how is it you can jump off like that but can't stand flying on a broom?"

"I don't know. I guess I just grew up with this, and it feels more natural. I don't remember ever not being in a swing as a kid. Brooms, though..." she said, shaking her head. "Brooms are for sweeping. It's probably going to take me a long time to get used to flying."

Just then her coin warmed. She pulled it out to look at it. _Dad went home to pack._

She touched it with her wand. _I'm with Draco._

After a few seconds, he responded. _Bring him._

Draco watched the exchange curiously. Hermione smiled at him. "Come on," she said, clutching his arm and spinning on the spot.

They appeared an instant later in Hermione's kitchen, Draco looking slightly stunned by the ambush, where Severus was preparing tea.

"Draco, you look well," Severus greeted. "Please, have a seat." He turned to Hermione, who reached up to kiss his cheek.

"Would you prefer some privacy?" she asked quietly. "I don't mind."

"That isn't necessary, unless you're uncomfortable," he answered. Hermione shook her head and took a seat across from Draco at the table. Severus sat at the end between them, where he poured out their tea.

Draco didn't say a word regarding their private exchange, but his eyes didn't miss anything. "How are you, sir?" His former teacher seemed relaxed and much healthier than the last time he'd seen him. "Mother's been asking after you."

Snape understood the gentle rebuke for what it was, and the corners of his mouth twitched as he suppressed a smirk. "You can tell her I am very well, as you can see for yourself." His eyes met Hermione's, an ebony eyebrow raised in silent question. Hermione smiled gently, nodding encouragingly. "Hermione has helped me locate my father, who's been missing for twenty years. My mother is being released from Azkaban on Friday. Hermione has graciously offered us her home until we can get everything settled."

Draco looked at Hermione, piecing together their earlier conversation. "That's who you were buying robes for this morning," he deduced. Hermione nodded. Draco hadn't been born yesterday, and he could plainly see the pair's mutual attraction. "I see," he acceded. "I'll relate whatever you wish. Tell me if there's something you'd rather I didn't," he offered.

Severus reached for Hermione's hand across the table. She took it in both of hers, rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles. "I've nothing to hide," he answered Draco, but stared into Hermione's eyes.

"There will be talk," Draco stated unnecessarily.

"We're aware of that," Severus admitted. "We had hoped our friends and families would be understanding and supportive," he challenged.

Draco shook his head, looked around**,** and sighed. "I guess it's not really so surprising. Leave it to you choose the best, Granger – both of you, actually, now that I think of it," he drawled

Severus smirked, Hermione grinned, and Draco shook his head bemusedly. "May Mother and Father call on you tomorrow?"

A quick glance at Hermione for assurance, and Snape answered. "Certainly. We'll be moving my father in tomorrow morning, but we should have him here and settled in by early afternoon. If they wish to come by about four o'clock, I'd be glad of a visit."

"I'm on the Floo network. I could drop the wards temporarily," Hermione supplied. "I know it's a messy way to travel, but..."

"I could Side-Along Apparate them, unless you'd rather it was just them," Draco interjected. "I don't have any plans tomorrow."

Hermione looked hopefully at Severus. "That would be fine," Severus conceded.

"I'll get Mother to have our elves prepare something for supper. You'll be busy settling your father in. It wouldn't be fair to expect you to prepare a meal on top of everything else." Draco stood. "I should be getting back. They didn't expect me to be gone so long. Sir." He bowed slightly, excusing himself. "Hermione," he added, nodding politely. "Until tomorrow." And he was gone with a pop.

Hermione prepared a beef roast and vegetables for the oven while Severus read the paper.

"Kingsley didn't waste any time putting the announcement in the _Prophet_," Severus commented.

"Well, Tuesday is a slow news day. It should make less of an impact than if it had appeared on Wednesday with all the sales circulars, or Thursday, when people are making weekend plans," Hermione reasoned. "It was probably the best time he could have picked to put it in."

Snape grunted, which Hermione took to mean he reluctantly agreed. She cleaned up the counter after shoving the roast into the oven.

"How did your shopping go?" Severus asked, folding the paper closed.

"Fairly well. The robes will be delivered tomorrow. I do hope she likes them," she answered.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. You can show them to me when they come. If I find anything questionable, we'll have time to make changes before Friday," he placated her, catching her hand as she passed behind him and pulling her down to his lap. "Draco is correct: You are the finest example of a witch I've ever met. I find it difficult to comprehend that you wish to be involved with me."

"I've laid claim to the bravest, most brilliant, exceptionally talented and powerful wizard in Britain, possibly the world. What's so hard to believe about that?" Hermione responded, threading her fingers through his hair.

"Hmm... when you put it like that, perhaps I'm being too hasty. After all, I've never been considered a great catch before," he teased. She playfully tugged his hair in admonishment.

"You've always been a good catch. Voldemort was the only thing holding you back," Hermione assured him, placing her warm lips against his temple.

Severus scoffed. "I've been hated nearly all my life. I've never been anyone's idea of desirable."

"You're wrong. You've obviously never had any reason to be inside the girls' bathrooms at Hogwarts! You were the subject of many lewd conversations and suggestive graffiti. I should know," she insisted. "But you're mine now, and I shan't give you up without a fight. And remember, I prevailed on the battlefield against Death Eaters, so those other witches had better watch out," she warned, only half in jest.

"My little warrior princess," Severus murmured. He leaned in to capture her lips. "So, was I the subject of your schoolgirl fantasies, Hermione?" he whispered against her lips.

"I'm not going to feed your ego," she scoffed, snorting. "If I admitted to that, you'd want to hear about them, and I'm not ready to share those things – not yet, anyway." She kissed him again.

Severus was pleased. She had admitted in a roundabout way that she had desired him even before his loyalties were truly known. She was attracted to him as a man, not his position as a professor, spy, headmaster or Dark Lord's most valued servant. That she'd threatened to fight for him against any witches who attempted to usurp her position only served to increase his regard.

"No. You're right. We'll wait for such things before I forget I'm a gentleman. Get up, woman! I can no longer feel my legs," he complained, softening the words with gentle hands at her waist, helping her up. He stood also, letting the blood circulate again. "By my calculations, we have nearly two hours until supper. I saw you have a collection of DVD movies. Perhaps you might choose one I'd enjoy?"

Hermione grinned. "I know the perfect one!" She led him down to the entertainment center, dragging her fingers across the spines of the DVD cases until she located her favorite mystery/thriller. "It's a psychological drama – slash – mystery – slash – thriller. I believe you'll enjoy it for the way it leads you through the story without giving anything away until the end. There are clues, of course, but you don't really notice them until the finale." She paused to place the DVD in the player. "Of course, you may spot the clues well before the end; it _is_ what you do," she smirked, sitting down on the squishy couch and pressing the play button. She patted the place next to her, inviting him to sit with her.

As they cleared the table two hours later, they were still arguing over what should have been obvious, and what was meant to be overlooked. Snape had to admit, though, it was very well done and highly entertaining.

"Lucius would enjoy it, I believe. Do you suppose we might watch it again tomorrow evening?" Severus ventured.

"Of course, whatever you think. You'd know better than I. It might be a bit rough for Madam Malfoy, though, don't you think?" Hermione proposed fretfully.

Severus chuckled. "Narcissa loves a good mystery. Before the Dark Lord returned, she was reading Muggle mystery novels by the bushel. Lucius begged me to go to Muggle London to get them for her."

"Oh. Okay, then," Hermione relented, still anxious.

Severus could sense her unease. "What's bothering you, my dear?" he asked, taking her hands and turning her to face him.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, Hermione admitted, "They're your closest friends, Severus. I want them to accept me, but I'm Muggleborn and they didn't do anything to prevent Bellatrix from torturing me in their home. I just don't see how we're going to get past that."

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, and I know you're going to anyway, but as soon as they discover your wealth, they'll like you just fine." Severus watched as her indignation rose. "Money speaks to people like them. But that's not all that impresses them: power, intelligence, beauty, magical ability, all things you possess in abundance. But it will be your wealth they'll recognize first. Ignore it if you can. They'll catch on that wealth does not impress you. It'll be another point they will eventually come to admire about you, as I do." He drew her to him, holding her tightly against his body. "And if you can forgive me for my actions towards you for six years, I feel confident you can do it for them, also. You've already done so with Draco."

They retired early, determining they needed to be well rested for the activities the following day. The enchanted shower was well used by each of them separately, and they fell into their beds sated, where sleep came easily.

Wednesday morning brought sleet and freezing rain, so Severus made the decision to move his father with a combination of Apparating and Shrinking charms rather than trying to maneuver the busy streets of London under less than favorable conditions. In truth, Tobias didn't really have that much to move. With the boxes shrunk, they loaded Hermione's beaded bag and Severus' satchel, used for gathering potions ingredients, and the move ended up taking just two trips. They had everything moved and restored to its proper size by lunchtime, and Tobias insisted on unpacking it himself.

Hermione's purchases from Madam Malkin's arrived after lunch, and she held them up one by one against herself to display them to Severus and Tobias for their opinions.

"Eileen will just adore that one," Tobias cooed, reaching out to touch the blue robes. "Blue is her favorite color," he added, smiling fondly at some private remembrance.

"You have made appropriate selections, Hermione. Mother will be very pleased," Severus congratulated her. "I suggest the blue for her release and the grey for her visit to the Ministry. What do you think, Dad?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely the blue for her first foray out of that dreadful place." Tobias shook his head, frowning at the thought of what she had suffered.

"Do you suppose she's changed a lot, Severus?" he asked anxiously.

Severus sighed and lowered his gaze to his folded arms across his chest. "I've known a few wizards and witches who have been incarcerated, but they were held in maximum security, guarded by the Dementors. Most were driven utterly mad. We can only hope she was spared the worst of their effects where she was kept."

Hermione narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. Lucius Malfoy wasn't mad, although a case could probably be made for him being amoral, and as far as she could determine, Sirius Black wasn't insane either. Oh, he was reckless to be sure, and the story of him setting Severus up to meet Remus transformed only supported the theory that he had always been so. Was Severus only trying to prepare his father for a worst case scenario? Or were there other, more significant instances of Lucius and Sirius behaving strangely that she and her friends had not been privy to? Well, either way, she wouldn't contradict Severus.

"Well, I will care for her, regardless of her state. I am grateful to have another chance to be with her again," Tobias stated bravely, his smile faltering a bit.

As though it only now occurred to him how his words might have affected his father, Severus laid his hand apologetically on the older man's shoulder, then turned away and left the room to find a secluded place to brood. Crookshanks stole out of the room behind him.

Tobias chuckled and shook his head. "I see he still does that."

Hermione peered at him questioningly.

"Goes off to sulk," he explained. "Done it ever since he was a little boy. Oftentimes, we'd have to go looking for him, he'd be gone so long. Sensitive boy. I'd hoped he would've grown out of it, but I guess it's his nature. Gets it from his mother," he smiled proudly. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Miss Granger."

Hermione grimaced, but nodded. Unwilling to discuss Severus behind his back, she turned to collect the clothing purchases and levitated them up the stairs ahead of her. She hung the robes in the wardrobe and left the other items on the bureau for Eileen to sort through when she arrived on Friday, then retreated to her own room to get a shower and dress before the Malfoys arrived.

As she charmed her hair dry and forced it into a restraining plait to contain it, she contemplated her wardrobe. Entertaining pure-bloods had never been part of the Hogwarts curriculum. Remembering the selections she'd viewed at Madam Malkin's, she decided to raid her mother's closet, or rather, the storage space in the attic where her parents' old clothes were stashed – the items Hermione hadn't sent along to Australia. It had been impossible to pack everything when they left, so a great many of their clothes were under a stasis charm, perfectly preserved for their return. Well, that wasn't likely to happen any time soon.

Severus had gone off to brood, as Tobias had said, retreating to his loft above the garage. Attempting to distract himself, he had begun organizing his books on the shelves. When one of the volumes snagged his attention, he made himself comfortable on his old, cracked leather chair, salvaged from Spinner's End.

Forty-five minutes later, his mood favorably improved, Severus remembered the guests who were due to arrive in an hour or so. Just as he was closing his book, Crookshanks reappeared, hopping onto his lap and dropping a flattened, dried-up purple toad on his arm. Severus looked between ginger beast and former amphibian and back again.

Hermione entered at that moment, having despaired of Severus returning on his own, and took in the tableau before her. She couldn't decide if he was angry or intrigued as he contemplated the strange gift bestowed on him by her familiar.

Severus finally turned his gaze to her. "What's this about?" he questioned, splaying his hand at the purple present.

"Apparently Crookshanks found it interesting and wanted to give it to you," Hermione explained, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at his confused expression. "He does that when he senses someone's upset."

Severus nodded and dropped his eyes to the unusual offering, picking it up to examine it closer. "It is a fine specimen. I do wonder where it came from; the indigo crested toad was nearing extinction the last I knew."

Hermione's amusement quickly changed to concern. "Oh, dear. I hope he didn't kill it."

"Doubtful. Its death appears to have been through natural causes. I see no evidence of injury," he remarked. "They were used extensively in a wart removing poultice until they became endangered," he added in an offhand tone.

"Perhaps they're making a comeback," Hermione suggested. "We can ask Crooks where he found it. There may be more of them around."

He inclined his head in agreement. "Perhaps another time, as we have guests arriving shortly." Severus coaxed the animal off his lap, set the flattened object on a high ledge and shelved his book. "I'm for a shower," he said, ushering her out with a warm hand at her back.

Draco arrived with his parents on either arm. Narcissa was holding a basket, presumably containing their repast, and Lucius held a bottle of wine. They were all wearing Muggle-style clothing and looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Severus stepped forward, relieving Narcissa of her burden. "Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, welcome," he intoned, a smirk just hiding at the corners of his mouth. "I'm sure you know Miss Granger, although I doubt proper introductions have been made." He turned slightly in Hermione's direction, his arm coaxing her forward. "Hermione Granger, may I present Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. You already know Draco, of course."

Hermione wasn't certain what Severus was playing at, but she turned toward Lucius expectantly. The man reached out for her hand, bowing slightly. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Granger."

"Likewise, thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione answered. She turned to Narcissa, who also reached out her hand. "Madam Malfoy."

"Miss Granger, thank you for allowing us to visit. I hope it's not an inconvenience. Draco informed us Mr. Snape was moving in today." She glanced around, looking for the missing man.

"It was no trouble, I assure you. The move was completed in very short order this morning," Hermione said.

"My father will join us presently," Severus explained. "He's been upstairs unpacking most of the afternoon. As soon as he's freshened up, he'll be down. Shall we move to the dining room?" He glanced at Hermione, signaling that she should lead the way. Since Draco had only been in the kitchen on his previous visit, it was the only room he could have Apparated them into, which made their formal introductions in the kitchen, of all places, seem rather absurd.

Hermione interpreted from Severus' formal behavior that he wished for her to show off her wealth a little, so she took the long way through the beautiful, open hall with its view of the grounds through the tall windows, and the luxurious interior rooms on the way to the formal dining room. The glint in his eye told her she had gleaned his wishes correctly. Through this display, Severus had insured there would be no sneering or belittling by the Malfoys from here on, effectively putting them on notice he would tolerate no disparagement of Hermione.

At the far end of the dining table Severus held out the chair at the end for Hermione, then seated Narcissa, Lucius and Draco to her right. He took the seat to her left just as Tobias entered the room.

"Father, I'd like you to meet my friends," he began again. After introductions were completed, Narcissa opened the basket she had brought.

"Miss Granger, I hope you'll be pleased with the selections I've had the elves prepare."

"Please, call me Hermione. I feel as though I'm still at Hogwarts!" she exclaimed. "And please, feel free to use magic inside the house," she added, detecting Narcissa's awkwardness in attempting to unpack the meal by hand.

Hermione waved her wand, Summoning the fine china, crystal and silver from the cabinet at the side of the room. The plates and utensils settled neatly at each setting, glowing richly.

Lucius opened the wine and poured a glass. "I hope you approve of my choice. I selected the 1889, Severus, I remembered how you appreciated it on another occasion," Lucius stated, waiting for Severus to sample it. Severus offered the sample to Hermione first, as hostess, but she shook her head, indicating with a wave that she trusted his judgment. "Forgive me, Hermione, I should have offered it to you," Lucius apologized, looking chagrined.

"No matter, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione dismissed. "I take no offense."

"Lucius, please. I insist," Lucius said agreeably.

The food was excellent, and conversation soon became less stilted, the fine elf-made wine helping to ease their tension. Narcissa produced a French press and a decadent dark chocolate fudge dessert with raspberries to end their meal.

The discussion soon turned to Eileen's release, and Tobias was able to join in. "Hermione picked out some beautiful robes for her," he said, smiling fondly at Hermione.

"I'd love to see them," Narcissa confessed.

Draco snorted. "She already owns every item of clothing you can buy in the wizarding world," he muttered.

"I've had them customized," Hermione clarified," so she doesn't have these."

"Well then, I'd really love to see them in that case," Narcissa said, smiling.

"Tobias, do you mind?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not, my dear. You know where they are," Tobias agreed obligingly.

Hermione and Narcissa stood, Severus and Lucius helping them with their chairs. "This way," Hermione directed, leading Narcissa up the stairs to Tobias' room.

Narcissa didn't miss a single detail of the house or the robes. It was obvious this Muggle-born witch was very wealthy. "Hermione, these are lovely!" she exclaimed. "I saw them in Madam Malkin's, but I didn't care for the lace," she admitted, fingering the satin trim. "These are much more refined and elegant this way."

"And I had these made in light-weight wool and had the sleeves lengthened for the colder season," Hermione explained, pulling the blue set of robes from the wardrobe. "Severus thinks she should wear these when she's released, and the grey when she goes to the Ministry. I don't know what to do about shoes, though."

Narcissa had several suggestions, and Hermione led her up to the attic storage to look through her mother's shoes to find suitable ones to transfigure. By the time they returned downstairs, the men had moved to the entertainment room.

"Hermione and I have some entertainment planned for you. You've been to the Muggle cinema?" he inquired. Lucius and Narcissa shook their heads, but Draco nodded.

"Pansy heard some Hufflepuffs talking about a movie they wanted to see over the winter break a few years ago and made me take her. It was called Titan or something. About a big ship that sank."

"_Titanic_," Hermione corrected. "It's there." She pointed to the shelf behind Severus. "It's a really tragic love story," she explained to Severus' unvoiced question.

"It is," Draco agreed, sneering. "I think Pansy cried for two days after seeing it."

"Well, the one we've chosen is a mystery story," Severus told Draco. "A movie is like a cross between a play and a wizarding photograph. It's moving pictures that tell a story." He nodded to Hermione to start the DVD, and she picked up the remote and sat down beside him. "We can stop it and back up if you need to see something again," he went on, directing his comments to the wizards in the room. "It's called _The Sixth Sense_. Have you seen it, Dad?"

"No, but I meant to. It was a busy time for me when it was out in theaters, and by the time I got the chance, it wasn't showing anymore."

Hermione fast-forwarded through the previews and settled back to get comfortable. She waved her wand to dim the lights as the credits began to roll.

The Malfoys sat in awe throughout the showing. As expected, when Hermione brought up the lights, Lucius and Narcissa started analyzing the story in great detail with Severus and Tobias.

Hermione interrupted briefly. "There's a bathroom across the hall there, if needed. I'm going to bring some tea down, unless you'd prefer to move up to the sitting room?"

Severus left the decision to Narcissa. "I'm quite comfortable here," Narcissa demurred, relaxing back into the squashy leather sofa.

Draco followed Hermione upstairs. "Nice house, Gra – erm, Hermione." He leaned one hip against the kitchen counter as she set the kettle on the hob. "Need any help there?"

"Look in the pantry over there. See if I've any biscuits. Severus goes through them, so I may be all out." She got out the tea tray and pot while Draco searched the pantry shelves.

"There's a box of coconut macaroons," Draco called out. "And half a box of chocolate wafers. I see a tin of ginger newts, too," he added. She could hear him give the tin a shake. "Almost empty, though."

"That's fine, at least he left some. Bring them all out, please." Hermione poured the water into the tea pot to steep, then got out a platter for Draco to place the confections on. She collected tea cups, saucers and condiments and placed them on the tray as well. When everything was ready, she levitated the tray downstairs, Draco following behind with the platter.

The rest of the evening progressed smoothly, with conversations veering from Tobias' plans once Eileen was free, to Hermione's and Severus' job prospects.

"We haven't made any decisions as of yet," Severus admitted. "I may take up the post of Headmaster in the future, but I confess to enjoying this quiet interlude," he said, glancing briefly at Hermione. The affection was visible for a moment and, of course, Lucius caught it.

"So, how came you to be living here, Severus?" Lucius inquired, genuinely curious and not the least bit accusatory.

Tobias and Hermione kept quiet, recognizing Severus' right to tell the story as he wished. "The neighborhood where I resided was reclaimed by the Muggles. It was mostly abandoned." Hermione noticed Narcissa's nod of remembrance of her own visit there a few years earlier. "The few remaining occupied properties were condemned. I had lost touch with my father after I joined Voldemort, and Hermione offered to help me find him, since the property is in his name, and only he can claim the proceeds."

"Surely you could have made it Unplottable and Secret-Kept," Lucius interjected.

"There was no legitimate reason to do so," Severus explained. "The place was only being held together by magic as it was. The sewer had started to back up in the last few weeks and I had received notice the water would be shut off at the end of the month."

"Couldn't you repair the plumbing yourself?" Lucius asked.

"It wasn't inside the house. The sewage pipes underground throughout the neighborhood had started to deteriorate. Apparently, it was affecting the houses closer to the main road. I hadn't really noticed it at my end of the street, but I saw a man climbing in and out of a manhole one night and assumed he was there to look into the problem."

"What made you think that, Severus?" Tobias questioned.

"He was dressed in Muggle workman's clothing and there was a van marked Public Works Department. Why?"

Hermione frowned, watching the byplay between Severus and Tobias. Something was niggling at her, something wasn't adding up. She suspected Tobias had the same feeling.

"Can you describe the man you saw?" Tobias asked after a moment.

Severus shrugged. "Older, average height and weight. Red hair and mustache, though greying quite a bit."

Tobias nodded, sighing. "It's as I thought. Sounds like Rodney Ferguson. He always had a thing for your mother. Resented the hell out me for snatching her up."

"You said this was at night, at the main road end of your block?" Hermione repeated, wanting to be clear. Severus nodded, looking perturbed. "It's only that it's unusual for the Public Works Department to send anyone out at night, especially to a nearly deserted neighborhood; not to mention your house should be the first one affected by a problem in the lines. It sounds rather suspicious to me."

"I agree," Tobias concurred. "If Rodney Ferguson is involved, you can bet it's illegal. The man never worked an honest day in his life." The older man huffed indignantly. "I wouldn't wonder that he set it up."

"You mean sabotaged the sewage system?" Hermione asked, incredulous. "I'd sue!" she declared angrily.

"You'd have to have proof," Tobias pointed out, which caused Hermione to deflate somewhat.

She might have retreated, but she hadn't given up entirely yet. She let her brain ponder the problem as the night wrapped up, inviting the Malfoys to visit again after Eileen's return.

The answer to the problem came to her as she tried to relax in bed that night. It was so obvious! She sat up, Summoning a pen and notebook to jot down her theories. She sketched out a plan, and made further notes to investigate in the morning, running different scenarios through her head as more and more ideas occurred to her. By the time she set her notebook aside, it was nearing two o'clock in the morning.

When she hadn't come down to breakfast by half past eight, Severus knocked on her bedroom door. "Are you planning on sleeping the entire morning away?" he asked through the door. He heard Hermione grumbling and turned to descend again.

She opened her bedroom door before he made it to the stairs, calling him back. "Severus, wait," she said, handing him her notebook. "Look this over while I get dressed. I'll be right down." He smirked at her disheveled appearance, and she glared back at him, trying unsuccessfully to flatten down her out-of-control mess of curls, turned on her heel and left him standing alone in the hall.

His amusement changed to interest as he settled down at the kitchen table to look over the notes Hermione had written.

Severus' memory - need Pensieve

Infrared video camera – Dennis Creevey

Investigate corruption in Reclamation dept. – contact Mr. Gibson & Mr. Douglass

Find out who land developer is – Gibson? Douglass? - maybe court house (Tobias)

Look for connection between Ferguson & land developer – talk to Tobias

Check out R.F. criminal history – Gibson, Tobias

Find a contact in pub. works – night shift emergency crew? - unlikely

Who did R.F. borrow van from?

Severus summoned a pen from the drawer by the telephone to add his own ideas.

Contact former neighbors to ask about other signs of tampering

Apply for injunction to halt demolition

Explore legal avenues open to wronged parties

Get assessment of actual damages incurred by wronged parties

Hermione descended the stairs, entering the kitchen just as Tobias came in from the sitting room. They converged on Severus at the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Hermione. I hope you're not unwell?" Tobias asked kindly.

"Good morning, Tobias. No, I slept well. I just stayed up too late thinking. Did you sleep all right on a different bed?" she returned, seating herself across from him and adjacent to Severus.

"My compliments, Hermione, it was actually the most comfortable bed I've ever slept on. I woke well-rested, not a twinge to complain about," he said with a grin, reaching for the juice. "What have you got there, son?"

Severus slid the notebook over to Tobias who looked over their notes thoughtfully. "Well, you must remember I haven't had any contact with the man in nearly twenty years. I can only tell you what I know of his past," Tobias began. "He was a petty criminal, shop-lifting, pick-pocketing, that sort of thing, when he was young. He ran with a very rough crowd, drinking and causing trouble around the neighborhood. He used to hang around Nell's Tavern, you remember the place, Severus?" At his son's nod he continued. "That's where he met your mother. She worked in the kitchen there part-time. I didn't know it at the time, but she took the job to get to know me." He grinned, embarrassed at how naïve he'd been.

"I tended bar there in the evenings after my shift at the mill. Money was tight, and my mother was ill, so I needed the work. Well, anyway, Eileen unfortunately caught Rodney's eye, and he got a little too fresh one night when she was bringing a tray of food out to a table. I threw him out, and he took offense, felt I was interfering in his attempts to woo her. She had no interest in him, but that didn't matter to him. He acted as if her rejection was an affront to his masculinity – took a fair bit of teasing from his mates about it. Even after we started dating, he accosted her whenever she was alone. That's how I discovered she was a witch – she Stunned him, and I saw it. The Obliviators arrived immediately afterward and wiped Rodney's memory of it, but since Eileen and I were involved, they left me alone and warned Eileen about using magic around Muggles. By that time I was so infatuated with her, it didn't matter what she was – she could've been an alien and I still would've loved her."

He looked at Severus, trying to determine whether his stoic son really understood. Severus reached over and grasped his father's forearm in encouragement and unspoken acceptance. "Your grandmother died a few weeks later and, since we no longer needed the additional income to pay her caregiver, I gave up tending bar. Eileen never really needed the job, only having taken it to get close to me, so she quit, too. We heard a few months later that Rodney had been arrested breaking into a store. After that, it was one arrest after another with the expected prison stints in between. Last I heard he was serving time for arson."

There wasn't much more Tobias could tell them, so they ate their breakfasts while working out how they wanted to proceed. Tobias went to his room to dig out his Christmas card list to look for addresses of old neighbors. Hermione made a phone call to Mr. Douglass, who in turn contacted Mr. Gibson. Severus wrote an owl to Minerva requesting use of the Pensieve and an address for Dennis Creevey, who had left the wizarding world after the final battle and Colin's death.

An owl arrived a short time later from Lilah. She and her sister wished to meet with Hermione on Saturday afternoon and wished to set up somewhere they could get together. When Hermione read the letter out loud to Severus and explained that Lilah was Madam Malkin's assistant, who had made the alterations to his mother's robes, Tobias asked if they mightn't meet at Hermione's home; that perhaps Eileen would want some items that hadn't been thought of yet. Hermione agreed and sent her answering owl right away.

The three of them went shopping for groceries after lunch, Severus driving the Volvo with Hermione in the front passenger seat. Tobias insisted on contributing toward the food expenses since there would be two more people eating it. He also knew Eileen's favorites and wanted to select special items for her first few meals outside of Azkaban.

Shortly after they arrived home, Kingsley and Harry Flooed in to make arrangements for Eileen's release the next day. As much as Hermione trusted Harry, she asked that he not come along, not because of the experience with retrieving Tobias, but rather to avoid drawing a crowd. It was their wish to keep the whole thing low-key. She asked Kingsley if he would consider assigning Auror Savage to accompany them to the prison. She felt comfortable in his presence, unlike some Aurors she had dealt with in the past. Kingsley said he would do what he could to make that happen, but couldn't guarantee the young Auror would get the assignment because he wasn't aware what other mission he might be working on at the moment.

At a quarter to ten the next morning, Auror Damian Savage and Auror-trainee Ron Weasley arrived with Portkeys to escort them to Azkaban and back again.

_Reviews are chocolate! I promise to share them with amylouise!_


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